


Semper Fidelis.

by steeleye



Series: Military Faith. [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Heartbreak Ridge (Movie)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5754511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeleye/pseuds/steeleye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heartbreak Ridge xover; A major screw up sends Faith and her friend Mrs B to the Marines! Posted to ‘Recon Platoon’, the two women must help knock the young marines into shape in the weeks before the invasion of Nunca-Aterriz</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Semper Fidelis.

By Steeleye.

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the film ‘Heartbreak Ridge’. I write these stories for fun not profit.

Crossover: BtVS with the movie ‘Heartbreak Ridge’.

Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar; Written in glorious English-English which is different to American-English.

Timeline: Sequel to ‘To Fight For Uncle Sam’, set in August 2006.

Words: Eleven chapters of around 3000+ words.

Warnings: Some strong language and violence.

Summary; Heartbreak Ridge xover; A major screw up sends Faith and her friend Mrs B to the Marines! Posted to ‘Recon Platoon’, the two women must help knock the young marines into shape in the weeks before the invasion of Nunca-Aterriza.

0=0=0=0

_A vacation in a foreign land  
Uncle Sam does the best he can  
You're in the army now  
Oh, oh, you're in the army now_

Status Quo; In the army.

**A Bus, somewhere between Fort Leonard Wood and Camp Lejeune, August 2006.**

Fighting against the soporific swaying of the bus and the drone of its engine, Faith pulled the envelope containing her orders from the bag lying between her feet. Easing the printed pages from the envelope she read them through once again just to make sure that they did in fact say what she thought they said; that she hadn’t somehow misread them and she wasn’t going to spend the next few months on a marine base. Shaking her head after she’d read the last line yet again, she replaced the documents into their envelope and put them back into her bag. Someone, somewhere, had screwed up big time, she’d seen some snafus in her time but this had to be the mother of all screw-ups.

0=0=0=0

No more ‘Direct Action’ (a more cosy euphemism for infantry combat, Faith had never heard) the army had told her after she’d been wounded for the third time. Okay, she’d been shot in the butt while she’d been taking a leak out in the desert, but it still counted as a combat injury. ‘The Brass’ had told her that it would be bad for the army’s ‘image’ if she got herself killed. As Iraq was a dangerous place and Faith appeared to attract ‘Direct Action’ like a bee to honey (Faith had actually used a different simile but we won’t go there) they offered her a choice. They told her that she could be invalided out of the service (on a very small pension) or she could transfer out to some posting that didn’t involve said ‘Direct Action’.

After taking several days to think this over, Faith had gone to her company commander, Captain Baron, and requested a transfer to the Military Police Corps. Captain Baron had expedited her transfer (honestly he’d not had to work too hard because the army top brass really wanted Faith out of Iraq soonest) and a couple of days later she was on a flight out of Iraq and on the first leg of her journey to Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri where the MP’s had their training school. As she’d been getting herself comfortable for the long flight, Faith had sensed someone sit down in the seat next to hers. Looking up to see who she’d be sitting next to for the next several hours, Faith found herself looking into the face of a grinning and newly promoted Corporal Brenda Mitchell.

“Hi Staff Sergeant Lehane,” the little blonde drawled in her West Virgina accent, “sure is a surprise to see yuh here.”

“What the…!” Faith had whispered in surprise; Mrs B as Brenda was know, or just ‘B’ as Faith called her, had been Faith’s driver and squad-mate back in Iraq. “What the hell are ya doin’ here?” Faith demanded, “Not that I ain’t glad to see a friendly face an’all.”

“Oh, y’know,” Brenda made herself as comfortable as you could in the back of a military transport, “felt like a change of scenery so I asked The Duke (as Captain Baron was known to his troops) if I could go along with yuh. He seemed ta think it was a great idea,” the younger woman grinned, “said I could keep an eye on yuh an’ keep yuh outta trouble.”

“Bastard!” Faith cursed, before adding quickly, “Not you B, him, sneaky bastard.”

“That’s why he’s a Captain,” Brenda pointed out, “an' we all ain’t.”

Oh-yes, Captain ‘The Duke’ Baron was one sneaky son of a bitch, he’d obviously seen through Faith’s plan of transferring to the MP’s. Once she’d finished training she’d get herself sent back to Iraq where she’d no doubt get herself involved in more direct action. The thing was she enjoyed combat, she’d worried that there might be something wrong with her after the first time she’d got mixed up in a fire fight. But her love of fighting didn’t seem to cross over into her non-combat time. When she wasn’t in combat she liked messing around with her buddies, drinking a few beers and maybe screwing around with some hot guy (or girl if there wasn’t a guy available) just like everyone else.

It was only when the bullets started to fly that whatever it was inside her that made her like she was rose up and she became a single-minded killing machine. Of course her ‘superstrength’ and her other weird ‘superpowers’ that she’d never actually got ‘round to mentioning to the army, helped. Having no past much before she’d enlisted, Faith often speculated on what she was; was she some freak of nature? Or was she the result of some super secret government experiment? Whatever the truth she rarely gave it much thought and never let it worry her for long. The Army gave her all the family and purpose in life that she craved.

0=0=0=0

The bus jerked to a stop and Faith looked up and around, it was starting to get dark and it was only mid-afternoon, there were big black clouds gathering on the horizon. There’d be a storm before the day was out. The bus was supposed to reach Jacksonville at about ten-thirty that night; Faith hoped they wouldn’t be delayed. Hearing the door open, Faith looked down the aisle towards the front of the bus to see who was getting on, all the while praying that it wouldn’t be anyone with a pack of screaming kids. Instead of screaming children, Faith watched as a tall marine climbed aboard and showed the driver his ticket. Making his way down the length of the bus, the marine caught sight of Faith looking at him, he nodded to her as he sat down in a spare seat on the opposite side of the aisle from her.

Now he was close, Faith could get a good look at the man, he was old, way old. His short, buzz cut hair was almost completely grey; he had a long scar on his forehead and another on the left side of his neck. The front of his uniform shirt was covered in medal ribbons and combat badges all topped off by the light blue ribbon and tiny stars of a Congressional Medal of Honour. The ‘Gunnery Sergeant’ and long service strips on the sleeve of his shirt told Faith that this guy was a real old fashioned ‘ass in the grass’ marine.

Normally Faith didn’t like marines, a little incident in Kuwait, back when she’d been a corporal, had kind of soured her opinion of the entire USMC. This guy, however, she felt naturally comfortable with, he’d seen more combat than she ever would and… Faith found herself smiling, he sorta felt…fatherly. What Faith really craved above everything else and sometimes she even admitted it to herself, was the love and approval of a father figure.

“Tom Highway.”

Faith snapped back to the here and now to see the marine had turned in his seat to face her and was holding out his hand to her.

“Erm,” Faith hesitated while she desperately tried to remember what her name was, “Faith, Faith Lehane,” Faith eventually replied.

“Pleased to meet you Sergeant Lehane,” Highways voice was like gravel, more of a loud whisper than a normal voice, “Who’s your friend?”

Turning, Faith looked down at where Brenda’s head rested against her shoulder as she snored quietly with her mouth open.

“This sorry excuse for a soldier,” Faith gently moved Brenda’s head until it was resting against the window, “is Corporal Brenda Mitchell.”

“You both MP’s?” Highway nodded to the badge on the shoulder of Faith’s shirt.

“Sure are,” Faith shifted uncomfortably in her seat, she was starting to get that tingly, feeling between her legs that told her she wanted to screw the old guy. “Newly minted just left Fort Leonard Wood yesterday,” she shrugged her shoulders as she tried to control her lustful urges, screwing this guy would be like screwing her father…another thought struck her as she nervously smoothed down her skirt; he could actually be her father or even her grandfather!

“You’ve seen some action,” Highway nodded to the medal ribbons on Faith’s blouse, “that the Silver and Bronze Stars there?”

“Hey,” Faith smiled and felt like a twelve year old who’d been praised by her teacher for doing some good work or something, “not as much as you, Gunney.”

Oh-god! Faith thought, now we’re playing, ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’, she told herself to change the subject.

“So where’re you heading, Gunney?” Faith felt she was on safe ground here.

“Camp Lejeune, North Carolina,” Highway explained, “I’m joining the new Marine Regiment that’s forming there.”

“Shit!” Faith gasped quietly, “No way! That’s where B an’ m’self are headin’.”

“Say what?” Highway frowned, “What are two female, army MP’s doing heading for a Marine base?”

“Damned if I know?” Faith shrugged her shoulder, “Best I can work out is someone made a _big_ mistake at the Pentagon, but that’s what our orders say. Maybe there’s another Staff Sergeant F Lehane somewhere that should have gone instead of me, but…” Faith glanced at Brenda who was just starting to wake up, “One mistake I could believe, but two…?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Highway nodded his head in sympathy.

“Well hi there, Mr Marine, sir!” Brenda laid on the ‘Southern Belle’ act as soon as she caught sight of who Faith was talking to.

“Easy soldier,” Faith warned quietly; she could see that Highway was just about to say something which was probably uncomplimentary to the army and short blonde corporals in particular until he spotted the ribbon for the Bronze Star on Brenda’s blouse.

“Corporal,” Highway nodded in her direction before returning his gaze back to Faith, “Which unit are you reporting to?”

“First Battalion, Twelfth Marine Regiment,” Faith replied without having to check her documents.

“That’s where I’m headed,” Highway replied slowly, “look, I know the Sergeant-Major of First Battalion, he’s a good man, report to him and he’ll get this all squared away and have you heading to where you’re supposed to be by the end of the day. When do you report?”

“Zero-nine-hundred, tomorrow,” Faith informed Highway.

“I’ll probably see you there,” with that Gunney Highway excused himself, settled into his seat, closed his eyes and went to sleep.

0=0=0=0

The bus sped on as the rain lashed down from a blacked sky, Faith checked her watch it was only about seven o’clock but it felt more like midnight. B and herself had been talking in a desultory fashion about why the army were sending them to the marines. A nasty thought had crossed Faith’s mind. What if it wasn’t a screw up? What if it was all official and the army really did want them to spend the next few months with the marines?

“Maybe,” Brenda suggested slowly, “maybe it’s some sorta idea some asshole’s come up with to improve relations between us army girls an’ these here marine grunts.”

Faith raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Yuh got a better idea?” Brenda wanted to know.

“Nah,” Faith finally admitted with a shake of her head; what Brenda had said might well be true, but in that case why hadn’t anyone bothered to brief them on what they were supposed to do?

Sitting back in her seat, Faith sighed, you could go insane trying to work out what the army wanted you to do. Like, they’d trained her to fight and then got cold feet when she was too good at it.

0=0=0=0

Waking up with a start, Faith opened her eyes and looked around, she’d been dreaming; she’d been lying wounded in a ditch next to a road in Iraq. There were burning trucks and firing all around. Looking up she’d seen the Iraqi insurgent standing over her pointing his rifle at her head and grinning down at her. When this had happened in real life, she’d shot the bastard’s balls off (literally) with her sidearm. In her dream she’d been paralysed and couldn’t lift her pistol to fire, the Iraqi had pulled his trigger just as she’d woken up.

“You okay, Slay?” Brenda asked using Faith’s nickname.

“Yeah,” Faith shook her head trying to clear it of the visions of smoke, flame and Iraqi insurgents, “just a bad dream, what’s goin’ on?”

“Just picked up another passenger,” Brenda told her, “you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, don’t fuss,” Faith wasn’t quite awake yet so she snapped at her friend, “I swear you’re like a mother hen sometimes…” Faith paused and took a deep breath and let it our slowly, “Sorry, I snapped.”

“That’s okay, Staff Sergeant,” from the tone of Brenda’s voice Faith could tell that it wasn’t ‘okay’.

“Look I’m sorry, B,” Faith whispered urgently, “don’t get mad at me, please.”

“Okay,” Brenda’s voice became lighter as she turned to look at Faith, “you’re forgiven…this time.”

Relieved, Faith looked up to see a young guy with a guitar case make his way down the bus. He wore jeans and a black, leather, biker jacket decorated with studs and the word ‘Stitch’ painted on the left breast, the red bandanna around his head informed Faith that he was a complete asshole as well as being soaking wet.

Watching him out of the corner of her eye Faith saw him put his guitar case on the rack above the seats. Next he reached across Gunney Highway’s sleeping body and Faith thought he was going to try and steal something from the marine. Just as she was reaching so she could rip the asshole’s balls off, Highway woke up and grabbed guitar-guy by the throat. Smiling her approval, Faith relaxed and settled back into her seat and closed her eyes; she started to feel the yearning low in her belly as she imagined Highway’s hands on her body and…

“Stick y’tongue back in y’mouth an’ stop drooling,” Brenda advised her quietly, “that’s not the sort of example yuh senior non-coms should be setting to us lowly troops.”

0=0=0=0

Eventually the bus arrived in Jacksonville, it was even early. After collecting their gear from the cargo compartment, Faith and Brenda stood around in the bus station and wondered where they should go.

“What do we do now Sergeant?” Brenda looked just a little forlorn standing there in her uniform with her suitcase and kit bag lying at her feet.

“Well,” Faith realised it was time for her to make a command decision, “we’d don’t have to be at Lejeune until tomorrow morning. What say we find a motel or somethin’?”

“Sounds good to me,” Brenda agreed, “but where’s the nearest motel?”

“Don’t know,” Faith looked around and realised that now the bus had gone, apart from a tramp on the other side of the station they were the only people around; she immediately started to feel uncomfortable, the dull ache in her stomach that was so like period cramps but wasn’t was telling her there was trouble close by, “Stay loose,” Faith warned Brenda quietly. Stepping away from Brenda and their gear, Faith looked around just in time to see one of the blood sucking things that seemed to plague her life since that first time in Iraq, come up behind Brenda.

“Hold it right there, asshole,” Faith stepped forward and pushed Brenda to one side, “No one ever told you you’re supposed to support the troops? Biting ‘em on the neck is unpatriotic!”

Snarling, the man with the animalistic face forgot about Brenda and jumped at Faith who parried the attack and was about to kick the thing’s legs out from under it when she realised she couldn’t get her leg up high enough.

“Vanity, vanity your name is Lehane!” Faith changed her attack to one that involved slashing her attacker across the throat with the edge of her hand; these things didn’t need to breathe so it wouldn’t stop it for long, but it would slow the monster down.

The thing was, Faith loved wearing her class ‘B’ skirt almost as much as she loved wearing her camouflage combat uniform. The skirt made her feel both smart and feminine, but unfortunately it stopped her kicking things that attacked her like just now. The monster recovered quickly as Faith had assumed it would and came at her again. Quickly and efficiently, she parried its attack and managed to get a hold of its head. Twisting the creature’s head violently to the right, Faith was gratified to hear the monster’s neck snap, she stood back so as not to get the ash-like stuff that these bloodsuckers turned into once they were dead on her uniform.

“Shit, Slay,” Brenda stood next to Faith looking down at the pile of ash on the floor, “these creeps are everywhere.”

Brenda had seen more than her fair share of weirdness since Faith had joined the unit she was in back in Iraq. There’d been the zombie guys she’d run over with her Hummer who’d then come back to life and tried to eat everyone’s brains. Next there’d been the time they’d found that Captain Finn guy out in the desert and been attacked by those weird Hellhound things, since then odd stuff always seemed to happen around Faith and Brenda sort of got caught up in the fallout. But, she was Faith’s friend so she’d take the rough with the smooth and try not to get killed.

“Looks like,” Faith agreed as she glanced around the bus station; the cramps were gone now and she felt relaxed and slightly horny, “Ya know, B,” Faith looked at her buddy, “we’re really gonna have to find away of warning other army girls about these things.”

“Can we do that tomorrow?” Brenda asked, “I need a good hot shower and a nice big, soft bed would be good too.”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed, “lets find a taxi the driver’ll probably know somewhere good.”

Picking up their gear the two women headed out of the bus station in search of a cab and somewhere to rest their heads for the night. As they walked out of the station onto the street, Faith got a feeling like there was someone watching her, she glanced over her shoulder but she saw nothing. Shrugging she ran a couple of steps and caught up with Brenda and thought no more about it.

About thirty yards away, a teenage girl stood in the shadows and watched as Faith walked out onto the street. Taking the cellphone from the pocket of her tight jeans she opened it up, touched a button and put the instrument to her ear, she waited a few moments before she spoke.

“Hello? Weasely?” The girl pursed her lips as someone replied, “Sorry, _Wesley_ , of course it’s Rona! Who else is it gonna be?” again the girl paused, “Look will you stop flapping your lips an’ let me speak?” Another short pause followed as Rona listened and rolled her eyes heavenward, “Look never mind about that, listen…looks like there’s a new slayer in town!”

0=0=0=0


	2. Chapter 2

2.

**1st Battalion, 12th Marine Regiment, Camp Lejeune the following morning.**

Stepping out of the cab, Faith checked that her beret was on correctly before smoothing her uniform straight; she walked smartly over to the guardroom at the entrance to the Marine base. Behind her, Brenda was taking their gear from the trunk of the cab and placing it by the side of the road. Walking up to the Marine Lance Corporal who appeared to be the most senior man present, Faith presented her ID card to the confused young non-com.

“Staff Sergeant Lehane and Corporal Mitchell reporting to 1st Battalion,” Faith informed the Marine briskly before adding in a softer tone, “Can ya tell me where the 1st Battalion HQ is?”

“Erm,” the corporal looked from Faith’s ID card and back to her face; Faith could almost hear the wheels going around in the guy’s head, “I’ll have to check, ma’am,” he said as he started to turn away.

“Don’t call me ‘ma’am’,” Faith warned softly, “it’s Sergeant, okay?”

“Yes, Sergeant!” The Marine came to attention as he spoke; other than that he seemed to have lost the ability to move.

“Well?” Faith asked as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes; this guy looked so young she wondered if he shouldn’t still be in Junior High; or was it that she was just getting older?

“Sorry ma’…Sergeant!” The Marine turned and hurried into the guardroom.

Standing in the shade under the veranda that surrounded the guardroom, Faith took a moment to take a look around. Typical military base, she thought, a mixture of permanent and semi-permanent buildings dating back to World War Two. Men and a few women walking about, some of them even looked as if they knew what they were doing and where they were going, the others just appeared to be as lost as she was.

“Ma’am…I mean Sergeant!” the Lance Corporal’s voice came from behind her.

Turning, Faith looked at the non-com and raised an eyebrow; she pursed her lips, but said nothing.

“Erm…” the Lance Corporal began uncertainly, “...Sergeant-Major Choozhoo is sorta expecting you…I’ve called for a vehicle to take you over there,” the non-com felt he needed to explain, “not that I think you couldn’t walk over there ma’…Sergeant but…”

“Stop digging son,” Faith said quietly as she turned away from the man to find Brenda looking up at her, a slight grin on her face.

“Son?” Brenda’s grin got wider.

“Sorry it just slipped out,” Faith tried to explain.

“Should I be callin’ yuh Ma’ now?” Brenda asked quietly.

“Corporal Mitchell,” Faith tried to sound angry but she was too busy trying to stop herself giggling to pull it off, “if you weren’t so short an’ cute I’d kick ya sorry ass all the way back to Iraq.”

“Hey,” Brenda continued to grin broadly, “while I fully accept I’m ‘cute’ I’m so not short, why I’m only one inch shorter than yuh!”

The discussion about Brenda’s height was brought to a premature end when a Humvee pulled up next to them and the driver asked if they were the ‘Army Pukes’ who wanted 1st Battalion HQ. Glaring angrily at the driver, Faith watched him gulp as he saw her strips and medal ribbons. He muttered an apology and jumped out of the vehicle and helped Brenda put their gear in the back of the Hummer. 

It was a drive of about a mile and a half to get from the guardroom to 1st Battalion HQ and Faith was glad they’d got the lift. In the heat of a North Carolina summer if they’d walked carrying their gear, by the time they got to their destination they’d have looked like shit. The Hummer pulled up outside a fairly new, brick built, two story building. This, the driver informed them, was 1st Battalion HQ.

After helping Brenda retrieve their gear from the back of the Hummer, Faith led the way into the building. Just inside the door she stopped and sighed with relief, the building was air-conditioned. Suspecting that she’d quickly adapt to the humid heat of Camp Lejeune, Faith was still glad to be somewhere where she didn’t feel like melting.

“Reception?” Brenda pointed up at a sigh that in turn pointed to an office door a little further down the corridor.

Once again leading the way, Faith walked in through the open door to find herself in a large office populated by one male and two female Marine clerks. They all had the same expression on their faces, it said; what are these two army pukes doing in our nice clean Marine barracks? Dumping her kit bag in a corner, Faith introduced herself and Brenda and gave the most senior Marine, a woman, their orders. The Marine frowned at Faith before bending her head to read Faith’s documentation. As she did so the frown on her face got deeper, she looked up at Faith and was just about to say something when Faith beat her to it.

“I know,” Faith shrugged, “it must all be some big Snafu. We don’t wanna be here anymore than ya probably want us. So,” Faith sighed heavily, “maybe if we could get to see someone ‘in charge’ an’ we can get this sorted out, okay?”

Still holding onto Faith’s orders the female Marine stood up, muttered something about seeing the Sergeant-Major and hurriedly left the room by the door that Faith and Brenda had entered by. Standing there in the middle of the room Faith gave the two remaining Marines a look that seemed to ask, ‘haven’t you got anything better to do?’ Immediately the two Marines found their paperwork very interesting and got on with whatever it was they were doing before Faith and Brenda had appeared. Moments later the first Marine returned and told them that Sergeant-Major Choozhoo would see them now. Following the young woman, Faith and Brenda were led into an office inhabited by a short, rotund man who couldn’t be more than a couple of years short of mandatory retirement; Faith frowned, so far all the Marines she’d seen were either very young or very old, she wondered what was going on here.

“Staff Sergeant Lehane,” the Sergeant-Major glanced up at Faith, “Corporal Mitchell,” Choozhoo looked back down at the papers in his hand, “what the hell are you two doing here?”

“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me, Sergeant Major,” Faith replied wearily.

“Well,” Choozhoo shook his head, “according to these,” he flicked the orders with his free hand, “you’re supposed to be attached to our Recon Platoon but I can’t understand why.”

Looking up at the two women, Choozhoo ran his eyes over the medal ribbons and combat badges on Faith and Brenda’s tunics, he seemed to relax a little and even smiled.

“Well at least you’re both combat veterans, Iraq?” he asked.

“Camp Liberty,” Faith replied, “we were both in country for just over a year.”

“I’m beginning to see what might be going on here,” Choozhoo stood up and turned to the coffee percolator on the filling cabinet behind his desk. “This here is a new regiment for a new Marine Division. What with our commitments in Iraq and Afghanistan the Navy’s run out of Marines to throw at a problem should something unexpected crop up. So, someone thought it might be a good idea to reactivate the old Fifth Division.”

The Sergeant-Major handed Faith and Brenda a cup of strong black coffee each and motioned for them to sit down.

“Most of the men we’ve got are no-nothing fuzz-balls,” just for a moment Choozhoo wondered if he should’ve missed out the ‘fuzz-ball’ comment, but when neither of the women reacted he just shrugged and carried on talking. “The rest of us are old-timers who, to be honest with you, are all within a couple of years of retiring. Most of the men are just outta basic, none or them have seen combat and we’ve gotta knock them into shape, fast.”

“I see,” Faith sipped on her coffee, “you think that’s why we’re here Sergeant-Major? As we’re combat vets,” Faith gestured to Brenda and herself, “obviously things are so desperate whoever’s in charge was willing to send anyone who wasn’t spoken for to help out.”

“Could be you’re right, Sergeant,” Choozhoo paused for just a moment, “but, and I hope you don’t mind me saying…women?”

“This is the modern Army…sorry Marine Corps, Sergeant-Major,” Faith pointed out, “they’re goin’ to be fightin’ next to women wherever they go and…” Faith took a deep breath, “...as we’re bein’ so honest here, Sergeant-Major. There’s some in the Marine Corps who don’t play well with their female comrades.”

“But…” like any good Marine, Choozhoo leaped to the defence of his corps.

“In Kuwait,” Faith explained coldly, “four Marines tried to rape me.” Faith was impressed, Choozhoo looked shocked and saddened, “I kicked their butts an’ nothing happened but ya can’t tell me things in the armed forces are all roses.”

“I’d like apologise on behalf of my entire corps,” Choozhoo hung his head sadly for a moment; he’d like to say it wasn’t so but if he was being truthful to himself he couldn’t deny it.

“Not ya fault, Sergeant-Major,” Faith tried to lighten the mood a little, “hell they were probably just assholes. But maybe someone thought that having female combat vets around while your guys were training might make ‘em value their female buddies more?”

“Could be,” Choozhoo agreed, “look, would you mind waiting in the office for a few minutes while I see the C/O about you, then I’ll see about getting you squared away.”

Watching as the two women (no soldiers he corrected himself) left, Choozhoo shook his head and wondered at the way the world was going. When he’d looked at Lehane he’d sorta seen himself as he was twenty or thirty years ago; tough, hard and keen. But she was also a woman and a damned attractive one at that, he sighed and wished he was twenty years younger. Yes, damned attractive; and as for the blonde corporal, hell she reminded him of one of his daughters! Shit! He shook his head once again as he got up to go find the C/O, maybe it was a good thing he’d be retiring soon.

They’d only had to wait in the office for a few minutes before Sergeant-Major Choozhoo stuck his head around the door and gestured for Faith and Brenda to follow him. Leading them to the far end of the corridor, he paused at an open door and knocked.

“Staff Sergeant Lehane and Corporal Mitchell, US Army Military Police, to see you sir,” Choozhoo smiled slightly as he saw the expression on the Major’s face and the two women walked briskly into his office, stood to attention and saluted. Slowly, Major Powers returned the salute, glanced at Choozhoo and then looked back at Faith and Brenda.

“So, how can I help the US Army Military Police today, Sergeant?” Powers asked; he was probably wondering which of his men had got themselves into trouble with the army.

Powers was a big man who reminded Faith of one of those pictures of cavemen you saw in history books only this caveman had a slight Virginia accent.

“Sir,” Choozhoo pointed at the papers on Power’s desk, “you’ve got their orders on your desk there.”

“What!” Powers looked down at the documents that he’d only just glanced at, “you mean…?” he pointed at Faith and Brenda and then looked at Choozhoo as if having the women in his office was the Sergeant-Major’s fault.

“Yes Sir,” Choozhoo appeared to be enjoying the Major’s discomfort.

“But they’re women!” Powers looked at Choozhoo again ignoring the women in question.

“Very observant of you Sir,” Choozhoo replied, “but if you read their orders, sir, you’ll find they’re both combat vets and…” Choozhoo left the part about checking their decorations unsaid.

“You’ve been in a while Sergeant,” Powers had picked up Faith’s orders and started to read them hoping that he’d find some excuse to get rid of the dark haired women and her blonde side-kick.

“Seen a little action, sir,” Faith replied keeping her voice neutral when all she wanted to do was tear this dick a new asshole, she’d taken an almost immediate dislike to the man.

“I haven’t as yet had the privilege of being in combat,” Powers said still looking at Faith’s orders.

Faith had never heard of combat being referred to as a ‘privilege’ before; although she always felt ultra alive while she was fighting, it did seem to Faith that each time she went into battle she came out of it with a new hole shot in her somewhere.

“I’ve recently come over from Supply and Logistics,” Powers informed her and Faith’s opinion of Powers went down another couple of notches, if that was possible.

“An unappreciated field of endeavour, sir,” Choozhoo announced; Faith kept her eyes on a spot twelve inches above Powers’ head, she knew if she looked at the Sergeant-Major she’d burst out laughing; not the best way to impress her new C/O.

“Quite,” Powers folded away the orders and placed them on his desk in front of him he looked up at Faith and Brenda with a look utter distaste on his face. “My record of achievement thus far has been exemplary,” Powers explained, “and I fully intend for that to continue.”

“Sir,” Faith agreed.

“I want this battalion to be the class of the division,” Powers rose slowly from his seat, “I expect my non-commissioned officers to lead by example, do you think you can do that Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir,” Faith kept her answers short, it was probably the safest thing to do.

“I don’t want to hear any complaints from either of you about getting your hair mussed or breaking a nail,” Powers continued; Faith wondered if he was trying to be insulting deliberately, “an if I even hear about any crying or _other inappropriate behaviour_ you’re asses will both be kicked right back to the army.”

“Yes Sir!” Faith clenched her fists and bit her tongue while she imagined Powers dying in a hundred, slow, agonising ways.

“Sir!” Choozhoo could obviously feel Faith’s dislike of Powers, it was even stronger than his own, “Division has assigned Sergeant Lehane and Corporal Mitchell to our Recon Platoon.”

“Yes Recon,” Powers turned away from Faith after his eyes had rested on her medal ribbons for maybe just a few seconds too long, “I suppose Gunny Highway can find a use for you, the previous platoon sergeant allowed the men to lapse into mediocrity…” Powers sighed and started to move pieces of paper around his desk. “When I ask for Marines they send me Army MP’s, female ones at that!” He shook his head in disgust, “The men of Recon Platoon are less than highly motivated,” Powers eased himself back down into his chair, “and I want those men in shape.”

“Understood, Sir,” Faith replied again keeping her answers short and to the point.

Giving Faith and Brenda one last look of disdain, Powers turned to Choozhoo, “Dismissed.”

Coming smartly to attention once more, Faith and Brenda saluted the officer before filing out of the room. In the corridor Faith told Brenda to get their gear together while she had a quiet word with Choozhoo.

“Is he always like that or is he just trying to make a good impression?” Faith wanted to know.

“Ha!” Choozhoo laughed quietly, “You know you’re the second man…sorry non-com,” Choozhoo corrected himself quickly, “who’s asked me that today.”

“Gunney Highway?” Faith asked.

“You’ve met?” Choozhoo nodded his head.

“Briefly, on the bus coming here,” Faith explained, “seemed okay.”

“Oh, he is Sergeant,” Choozhoo put a fatherly hand on Faith’s shoulder; she let him lead her back towards his office. “He’s an old fashioned combat Marine; he’ll judge you on what you know not whether you’ve got…” Choozhoo’s voice petered out as he realised where his mouth was taking him.

“Balls, Sergeant-Major?” Faith grinned.

“Something like that,” Choozhoo smiled and patted Faith on the arm, “look I’ve set you an’ your Corporal up in a hut next to recon’s. You’ll need to clean it up a little, but it’s not in too bad a shape. Highway’s already there, so you better get down and report to him. I’ll get a driver to take you down there.”

Fifteen minutes later Faith and Brenda found themselves in an old corrugated iron hut, it looked like a pipe that’d been cut in half length ways and dumped on the sandy ground. Inside it was dusty but otherwise fairly clean, someone had dumped their bedding on a couple of the bunks. 

The hut itself was divided up into three parts. As you came in the front door there was a small recreational area with a few chairs and space for a TV set. Through the next door was the sleeping area with space for about four beds. Finally right at the back of the hut was the washroom with showers, toilets and sinks there was even a washing machine so they could do their own laundry.

“All the comforts of home,” Brenda observed as she dumped her kit bag by the bed she’d chosen as her own; to be honest the hut was better than Brenda’s home, she’d been brought up on a trailer park, for space alone the hut was a step up.

“Not bad,” Faith agreed, she couldn’t remember her home, but she doubted she’d been born in a mansion; slipping off her jacket, she hung it up and looked around with her hands on her hips. “We’ll get this place cleaned up later, let’s go find Gunney Highway.”

They didn’t need to search far; walking out into the street that ran in front of the line of huts, they followed the sound of raised voices to the hut next to theirs. This one appeared to be more than twice the size of their own; they looked in through the opened front door just in time to see Highway break a pool cue in half across the edge of the pool table that stood in the middle of the room. Noticing a smashed radio and an upset trash can full of empty beer cans, Faith leaned against the door frame ready to enjoy the show.

“You men do not impress me!” Highway said in his weird, loud, gravely, whisper; pieces of broken pool cue went spinning through the air.

By the looks of the young Marines and the state of their quarters, Faith felt she had to agree with Highway’s assessment.

“Recon Platoon kicks butt!” announced a tall, thin, Marine unwisely.

Highway stepped forward and pinched the thin Marine’s nose between the fingers of his left hand.

“You think you can slip and slide just because your last sergeant was a pussy?” Highway wanted to know as the young Marine struggled to free his nose from Highway’s grasp. “You’re gonna start acting like Marines, right now!”

Highway shoved the Marine, who tripped over a chair and sat down hard on the floor.

“Who invited you?” demanded another young Marine who was wearing dark glasses indoors; Faith winced as Highway turned towards the man who immediately took a step backwards.

“I’m not doing this because I want to take long showers into the wee hours with you assholes,” Highway informed them, “and I don’t want to get my head shot off in some faraway land because you can’t hack it!”

Feeling she could sympathise with Highway on this point, Faith was all in favour of not getting anymore ‘shot’ than was absolutely necessary. Just then the door at the far end of the room opened to admit another young Marine to the room. This one was wearing a towel around his waist, heavy dark shades and was singing while clicking his fingers as he walked across the room. Recognising him as the asshole with the guitar and leather jacket from the bus the night before, Faith grinned in anticipation.

“Oh this should be fun,” Faith told Brenda in a whisper.

“Well, well, well,” Highways said in a low menacing voice (which was even lower and more menacing than the voice he normally used). He walked over to the Marine dressed in the towel. “I’m here to tell you that life as you know it has ended. You should all go to town tonight, laugh and make fools of yourselves. Rub your pathetic little peckers up against your honey or stick it in a knothole in a fence, but whatever it is get rid of it. Because at zero-six-hundred tomorrow,” Highway grabbed the half naked Marine by his ear and gave him the most evil look that Faith had seen on a drill instructor’s face in a very long time, “because your ass is mine!”

Not giving anyone time to say anything, Highway dragged the Marine by the ear out the rear door of the hut. Reaching out Faith took hold of Brenda’s arm preventing her from following Highway and the gaggle of Marines as they disappeared out the door. Giving a slight shake of the head, Faith turned away and headed back towards their own hut as Brenda followed along reluctantly behind her.

“Why’d…” Brenda began to complain, things had started to get interesting and Faith had pulled her away.

“Remember what that asshole Powers said about ‘inappropriate behaviour’?” Faith glanced over her shoulder.

“Oh-shoot!” Brenda sighed as all the regulations about females in male quarters came back to her mind and she started to sulk, officers were such kill-joys.

0=0=0=0

**A/N.** Before anyone says anything, I’ve had a look at Google maps and I see that Camp Lejeune is quite a modern looking barracks. However, that’s not how it was depicted in the film, so, as this is a xover fic I’ve gone with the look of the camp in the film. 


	3. Chapter 3

3.

**The Palace Bar, Jacksonville.**

“Do we have to be here?” Wesley asked; he was sitting across the table from Rona, uncomfortable in his shirt, tie and jacket.

“Y’know,” Rona whispered just loud enough for Wesley to hear her over the sound of the rock band playing at the other end of the room, “compared to you, Mr Giles is one wild party animal!”

“I still don’t understand why we have to be here,” Wesley looked around at the young people that crowded the noisy bar, “what makes you think that this suspected slayer of yours will turn up here?”

“Look Weasely…” Rona began only to be interrupted by her watcher.

“Its Wesley,” Wesley pointed out.

“Whatever,” Rona shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes, “look, how many times do I have to tell you? She _was_ a slayer and she was wearing a uniform like a soldier or something.”

“So?” Wesley stubbornly refused to admit that what Rona was saying was true.

“F’Christ’s sake Weasely,” Rona snapped.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Wesley replied tiredly, “It’s Wesley.”

“Whatever,” Rona shrugged again, “when y’gonna get with the program? I thought you were s’posed to be clever an’ all.” Rona took a deep breath and started to explain, “Look she was in a soldier’s uniform, this place is popular with the Marines and it’s near the base so I reckon she’s bound to turn up here sometime.”

“So I’m here in serious danger of damaging my hearing on the off chance that this,” Wesley made a vague gesture with his hand, “suspected slayer _might_ turn up. I must say Rona…”

“Shut up,” Rona pointed across the bar, “there she is.”

“Where?” Wesley turned in his seat trying to get a better look.

“There,” Rona nodded to where Faith and Brenda stood near the door; unlike Wesley she was at least attempting to be unobtrusive. “Dark hair, mid twenties I’d say, fit, attractive with the cute blonde girl.”

“Oh yes I see,” Wesley stared at the two women as they searched for a free table, “she doesn’t look like a slayer to me,” Wesley turned to look at Rona, “you sure you saw her kill a vampire?”

“Sure as sure is,” Rona replied slowly, “she hit him up side the head a couple o’ times , tried to kick him but her skirt got in the way…”

“Her skirt?” Wesley asked incredulously.

“Like I say she was wearing her uniform,” Rona pointed out, “so she tries to kick him then she gets up close and breaks his neck…POOF!” Rona grinned, “One dusted vamp!”

“And she didn’t look surprised or anything?” by now Wesley was frowning, perhaps he should give Rona’s account more credence. “From what you’ve told me there’s still no reason to believe she’s a slayer. I mean don’t they teach unarmed combat in the military?”

“Yes,” Rona agreed, “but her an’ her friend there just like, looked at the pile o’ dust an’ sorta shrugged ‘fore they walked away.”

“Hmmm,” Wesley took off his glasses and polished them while he thought about his next move, “I’m going over to talk to her!”

As Wesley started to get up, Rona reached out and grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his seat.

“Fooool!” Rona sneered, “Think about it, man! You go over there an’ start talking about destinies and vamps an’ demons and it’s you that’s gonna get hit up side the head.”

0=0=0=0

“Here’s one!” Brenda grabbed hold of Faith’s hand and pulled her towards a free table, they sat down and Faith started to look around for a waitress.

After their introduction to Recon Platoon, Faith and Brenda had gone back to their accommodation and started to make it habitable. They’d only been working for half an hour or so when Gunney Highway turned up at their door, knocking loudly he waited to be invited in.

“So, Sergeant,” Highway looked around the hut noticing the dust and dirt that still needed cleaning up, “looks like we’re neighbours.”

“More than that, Gunney,” Faith put down her broom and walked over to stand in front of Highway, “looks like we’ve been attached to your platoon to help train ‘em.”

“Say what!?” if Highway had been told that he’d just been made President he couldn’t have looked more surprised.

“Yeah,” Faith smiled, “go figure, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gunney Highway sighed with an air of acceptance born of long years in the Marine Corps. “If you’re here to help you better be advised that I’m running those losers starting at zero-five-hundred tomorrow.”

“Check,” Faith made a mental note, “we’ll be there.”

“You don’t need to be,” Highway pointed out.

“Oh yeah we do,” Faith corrected him; “you’ve never been a woman in this man’s Army or Marine Corps, have you?”

“Meaning?” Highway looked down at Faith studying her closely.

“Just if you’re a woman and you want to be accepted,” Faith explained, “you have to do everything the guys do, no backing out, only you have to do it better.”

“Yeah,” Highway agreed contemplatively, “whatever,” he looked around the hut once more, “I’ll send a couple of those worthless jerks over to give you a hand.”

“Thanks, Gunney,” Faith nodded her head accepting the offer.

“See you tomorrow,” Highway turned towards the door, “on the street, zero-five-twenty.”

“Looking forward to it!” Faith called after the rapidly moving Marine.

After putting the Marines to work cleaning up the washroom, Faith and Brenda finished cleaning out their quarters and then went out to explore the camp and find out where was a good place to get a beer.

0

“So what’ll it be?”

Looking up Faith saw a not unattractive waitress in her mid-late thirties standing at her table.

“Beer,” Faith glanced at Brenda, “Make that a pitcher and two glasses, please.”

“Oh the way,” the waitress turned and headed for the bar.

Looking around Faith took in the place, it was a typical small town bar. Wooden floors; tired looking waitresses, a local band playing in the corner…a creepy guy in a shirt, tie and tweed jacket checking her out.

“Hey B,” Faith called trying to get Brenda’s attention; she was too busy checking out the local talent to hear Faith at first and Faith had to call again.

“Yeah?” Brenda turned and grinned widely at her friend.

“Check out the creepy guy over my left shoulder,” Faith told her.

“Thirties, glasses with the coloured girl who’s waaay too young for him?” Brenda asked.

“That’s the one,” Faith nodded.

“What about him?” Brenda wanted to know, “Apart from him being creepy and with a girl who looks like she’s in his class at high school.”

“He’s been watching us since we came in,” Faith was going to say more but just then the waitress arrived with the beer.

“Thanks,” Faith said as the waitress placed the pitcher of beer on the table with the two glasses, “Hey,” Faith caught the waitress’ eye, “that guy over my shoulder in the glasses and jacket…”

“The one with the cute coloured girl?” The waitress asked not making it obvious where she was looking.

“That’s the one,” Faith nodded, “he a regular?”

“I’ve not seen him before, or the girl,” the waitress wiped down the table so as to give a reason for why she was spending time with the two women, “he bothering you or something?”

“Nah,” Faith shook her head, “just keeps looking at us.”

“Well, honey,” the waitress stood back and looked down at what Faith and Brenda were wearing, “In those outfits, I’d be worried if men didn’t look.” The waitress paused before she got back to work, “If he gives you any trouble just yell out, okay?”

“Okay,” Faith smiled her thanks, “we’ll do that.”

“So,” Brenda started to pour the beers, “what’s the story on this Stitch guy?”

‘Stitch’ was the guitarist that turned out to be a Marine who Gunney had taken a sudden and possibly terminal dislike to.

“I got part of the story off one of those Marines, Highway sent to clean up the washroom,” Faith started to explain, “you know they got off the bus together at that diner?”

“Sure,” Brenda remembered, at the time she’d wondered why but hadn’t really thought about it much since.

“Seems Stitch stole Highway’s bus ticket and some money,” Faith gave a short version of the story she’d been told, “left him stranded when the next bus came along.”

“Shit,” Brenda giggled, “bad luck or what!”

“Fuckin’ stupid if you ask me…” Faith replied before taking a swig of her beer.

0=0=0=0

“Shit,” Rona gasped, “she saw you lookin’!”

“No she didn’t,” Wesley sipped at his beer.

“Christ!” Rona cried in frustration, god save her from stupid watchers, “Didn’t you see the way she was asking the waitress about us or more likely you. They probably think I’m your high school, snuggle-bunny or something.”

Wesley choked nosily on his beer. 

“Oh come on, Weasely,” Rona rolled her eyes yet again.

“W-Wesley…” Wesley corrected her automatically as he mopped up spilt beer with his handkerchief.

“What else are people gonna think?” Rona didn’t wait for a reply, “Hot, young, sister out with a creepy, old, white dude.”

“I’m not old,” Wesley pointed out, “and I’m certainly not ‘creepy’.”

“Weasely,” Rona smiled pityingly at the man, “you ain’t sittin’ where I am.”

0=0=0=0

“…seems to me,” Brenda said quietly, “that every man that I’ve ever known has screwed me one way or another.” Brenda sipped her beer, “Useless boyfriend knocked me up when I was just fifteen, then got his ass thrown in jail for robbin’ a store. Left me with a kid an’ no edgy-cation.”

“Takes two to tango,” Faith pointed out over the top of her glass.

“Yeah okay,” Brenda admitted, “you got me there, but look it gets worse.”

“How so,” Faith grinned at her friend; at least Brenda had a past she could remember, Faith had no idea what she was doing when she was fifteen.

“The only woman I’ve slept with,” Brenda put down her glass, “stole all my stuff an’ left me broke, with no ID and no ticket home in LA!”

“You slept,” Faith hesitated for a second, “ya mean _slept_ with a woman?”

“Would’ve been fun too,” Brenda pointed out, “if it wasn’t for all the robbin’ afterwards…oh and there was Dim an’ all!”

Dim was a member of the platoon Faith, Brenda and their friend Doublewide had been attached to in Iraq.

“What?” Faith couldn’t quite believe her ears, “You mean while I was lying there keepin’ my legs crossed or dealin’ with business myself you where screwing Dim?”

“Just the once,” Brenda admitted.

“Any good?” Faith poured more beer.

“He was sweet,” Brenda sighed wistfully, “but he was married so I only did it the once…in the laundry tent.”

“Jeez,” Faith shook her head, “an’ the sleeping with a woman thing?”

“Again, just the once,” Brenda reached across the table and touched Faith’s hand, “like I say it woulda been fun if it wasn’t for the robbin’ an’all.”

“Yeah I could see how that’d put ya off the whole girl on girl thing,” Faith became hyper aware of Brenda’s hand on her own.

“Oh I never said it put me off,” Brenda replied coquettishly as she brought her other hand up so both her hands were holding Faith’s, “it’s just that I never got a …”

“Excuse me ladies.”

Looking up from where Brenda’s hands rested on her own, Faith saw the creepy old guy looking down at them, she noted the English accent. It was nothing like the accents of the British soldiers she’d occasionally met in Iraq, it was more like one of their officers.

“I was wondering if I might have a word with you,” creepy guy had pulled over a chair and was about to sit down.

“Yes I do, now fuck off asshole,” Faith snarled, “before I rip you a new one!”

“Right!” Wesley backed away from the table, “another time maybe,” he turned around and fled back to Rona.

“Now,” Faith said huskily as she looked deeply into Brenda’s eyes, “what was it you never got?”

Just then the band stopped playing and the guy on lead guitar started to make an announcement.

“ _And now, back from his awesomely successful tour…the Earl of Funk, the Duke of Cool…the Ayatollah of Rock-n-Roll-a, Stitch JONES!”_

“You what!?” both women said together as they turned to see guitar-Marine prance out on stage and start to play.

‘Darn’, Faith cursed inwardly, the moment had been lost before she’d made sure that Brenda meant what Faith thought she did. Having withdrawn her hands from Faith’s Brenda was watching the band now.

“He’s pretty good,” Brenda turned to smile at Faith.

“If you say so,” Faith lifted her glass to her lips as she looked towards the bar and noticed Gunney Highway talking to the waitress who’d served them their beer. It looked like everyone was going to get some tonight except her.

0=0=0=0

It all went wrong after Stitch had finished his first set and was talking to the audience. There was a minor disagreement with a group of four Marines sitting at a table near the stage over what Stitch was going to play next. For a moment it looked as if things might get violent. But, much to Faith’s surprise, Stitch calmed the situation down and was even suggesting that a few of the local girls might want to have a drink with the four members of ‘the Nation’s Finest’. Next thing she knew, a big civilian guy in a white shirt clutching a heavy looking club burst onto the scene nearly knocking the Marine’s table over.

“Oh shit,” Faith sighed as she and Brenda started to get up, each putting on their figurative MP’s hats as they did so.

“Knock it off!” yelled the guy with the club warningly, “Knock it off, god-damn-it!”

He pushed one of the young Marines to the ground and jabbed another in the chest with his club. Shaking her head, Faith searched in the pocket of the tight little skirt she was wearing for her ID. The guy was obviously an asshole having taken a very minor situation that had been resolved and blown it up out of all proportion.

“Sit down!” Club-guy swung his weapon to encompass Stitch and the four Marines.

As Faith slowly moved towards the seat of the trouble she noticed Highway moving like a homing missile towards the guy with the club.

“Oh shit,” she repeated.

“Lay off them,” Highway came to a halt about two yards short of Club-guy, “They’re not hurting anyone.”

“Why don’t you stay outta this,” Club-guy turned his anger towards Highway, “This is none of your business.”

“Hey, I’m just tryin’ to sing a song here,” once again Stitch began to pour oil on troubled waters.

“You get off on rousting Marines?” Highway asked his voice getting lower and more menacing by the second.

“Leave it alone, Highway,” the waitress told Highway from by his shoulder.

Faith started to believe that everyone would be getting in on the action soon; she glanced over her shoulder to see Brenda was watching her back.

“I chew on jar heads and spit ‘em out,” Club-guy sneered into Highway’s face.

“You do?” Highways voice was now so low even Faith could hardly hear him, “Why don’t I just bend you over that table and nail you in the keister then?”

“Ooops,” Brenda whispered into Faith’s ear, “them’s fightin’ words!”

“What you talking about?” Club-guy wanted to know, obviously they were only ‘fightin’ words’ if you knew what they meant.

“Well that’s what your persuasion isn’t it?” Highway explained.

Club-guy smashed his club down on the table next to him and sent glasses and beer flying in all directions. Looking down as something wet landed on her legs; Faith saw beer running down her shin and onto her shoe.

“Fuck this,” she said quietly to herself and started to move in to stop the fight before it began in earnest.

“What kinda fag talk is that!?” Club-guy demanded.

“Hey!” Stitch made another attempt at saving the situation, “He’s just messin’ with you man…who’d have the bad sense to mess with Roy Jennings in his own place?”

This was the piece of information Faith had been waiting for, just who the fuck was the guy was with the club? The fact that he was the owner might still be to Faith’s advantage.

“Okay,” Faith stepped out of the crowd, “lets break this up!”

“What you want, Bimbo?” Jennings turned and pointed his club at Faith.

“This,” Faith reached out and snatched the club from Jennings’ hand, “for starters.”

Passing the club over her shoulder to Brenda with one hand, Faith held up her badge with the other.

“Okay!” she called, “MP’s, now why don’t we all sit down and get back to having a good time?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, bitch!?” Jennings blustered.

“Its Sergeant Bitch to you asshole,” Brenda ‘accidentally’ taped Jennings on the kneecap with his own club, the man gasped and nearly fell to the beer stained floor. “Now yuh better do what the Sergeant says.”

People started to move back to their tables and sit down again.

“What I’m talking about,” Faith glared at Jennings, “is you beatin’ on Marines for no good reason; I’m talkin’ about maybe writing you up and sending my report to the civilian authorities. I’m talkin’ about having this place put ‘off limits’ or maybe having your licence pulled…that’s what I’m talking about.”

Smiling up at the big man, Faith dared him to do something. Much to Faith’s disappointment Jennings said and did nothing.

“I thought you’d see it my way,” Faith jumped up onto a chair so she could be seen by everyone in the bar, she checked her watch. As most of the Marines would be training tomorrow it was about time for them to get back to barracks anyway.

“Okay,” Faith called loudly, “all Marines; drink your drinks and kiss your honey’s goodnight then get back to base.”

There were a few muttered groans but the Marines slowly started to do what they were told; it was getting late and all the excitement looked as if was over for the night. Jumping down from the chair, Faith ignored Jennings and walked over to Stitch.

“Jones,” she whispered, “maybe you aren’t such an asshole as I thought you were, make sure the Gunney gets home, okay?”

Not sure whether to feel proud at the trust placed in him, or put upon, Jones shrugged and went to collect up his guitar. Turning around, Faith gathered up Brenda with her eye and headed towards the door.

0=0=0=0

Across the room, Wesley and Rona watched the action from a safe distance.

“MP’s?” Rona asked and turned towards Wesley.

“Military Police,” Wesley explained, “well, my dear, it looks as if you were right. It seems this young woman is a slayer after all.”

“Better find out what her name is,” Rona advised him, “I get the feeling that callin’ her ‘young lady’ might piss her off some…an’ I think that’s one GI-Jane who you don’t want pissed at you.”

“Indeed,” Wesley agreed absently, “I’ve heard of a few slayers who’ve joined their nation’s armed forces but I’ve not heard of it happening in the States.”

“Is that so?” Rona started to slip her arm into her jacket; it was time to go, she had to work tomorrow.

“Hmmm,” Wesley started to check that he had everything he’d come in with as it looked like Rona was preparing to leave, “yes, I think I’ll call Mr Giles when I get back see what he says.”

“You do that Weasely,” Rona started to head for the door.

“Wesley!” Wesley cried as he hurried after the girl, “How difficult is it to remember? My name’s Wesley!”

0=0=0=0

Back at the accommodation, Faith and Brenda had both showered and were preparing to go to bed.

“PT at zero-five-twenty?” Brenda moaned, “It’s like being back in basic!”

“I’ve set the alarm for zero-five-hundred,” Faith called as she checked the doors were locked and none of the windows had been left open wide enough to let a bloodsucker or anything else that happened to plague her life in. “You ready?” Faith asked as she stood by the light switch.

“I’m cool,” Brenda replied as she sat cross legged on her bed.

Switching off the light, Faith walked across the room to her bed in the darkness that wasn’t really that dark to her. As she climbed into bed she noticed that Brenda was still sitting on her bunk.

“Slay?” Brenda called softly as she listened to Faith getting into bed.

“What?” Faith beat her pillow into submission with her fist.

“You know, I could come over an’ keep you company if yuh lonely over there,” Brenda pulled the t-shirt she wore off over her head. “I mean it’d be one less bed to make in the mornin’…”

Taking Faith’s silence as an affirmative, Brenda got off her bed and padded quietly over to Faith’s; she pulled back the covers and climbed in next to her.

“We don’t have to do anything if y’don’t want to,” Brenda said as she settled herself down in the narrow bed.

“You realise how much trouble we’ll be in if we get caught?” Faith turned over so she was facing Brenda.

“Door’s locked ain’t it?” Brenda eased herself closer ‘til she was touching Faith’s warm smooth skin.

“That’s not what I meant,” Faith smiled in the darkness as she moved her hand up to rest on Brenda’s breast, “I mean if we’re gonna get inta trouble we might as well make it for doin’ somethin’ worthwhile.”

“Oh yeah,” Brenda sighed as their lips met and their hands started to roam urgently over each others bodies.

0=0=0=0


	4. Chapter 4

4.

_Do you remember what the draft man said?  
Nothing to do all day but stay in bed,  
You're in the army now  
Oh, oh, you're in the army now_

**Early morning, Camp Lejeune.**

The Marines of Recon Platoon stumbled out into the street to find Faith and Brenda already waiting for them.

“Okay you sorry excuses for Marines!” Faith snapped as the puzzled Marines tried to work out what was going on, “Get y’selves into formation!”

Slowly Recon Platoon sorted themselves out and formed three ranks in front of Faith. The Marines where wearing khaki shorts, gym shoes, and a wide variety of coloured t-shirts, unlike Faith and Brenda who wore their camouflage pants, boots and grey t-shirts with a big black ‘ARMY’ printed across their boobs.

“Corporal Mitchell, take your post,” Faith told Brenda once the Marines where in something approaching order.

Marching smartly to one side of the platoon, Brenda stood at parade rest while Faith remained standing in front of the platoon who were all thinking the same thing. Why was this woman with ‘ARMY’ printed across her boobs telling them what to do?

“Stand properly at ease,” Faith told the platoon as she noticed Gunney Highway approach from behind the accommodation hut; coming to attention herself she ordered the platoon to attention and then preformed a smart about face as Highway walked briskly up to her.

“Gunney,” Faith announced crisply, “the platoon is formed for PT.”

“Thank-you, Sergeant,” Highway replied, “take your post.”

Turning to her left Faith marched over and stood next to Brenda. Highway studied the platoon for what felt like a very long time before he spoke.

“The Marines are looking for a few good men,” Highway walked slowly over to the man standing on the left of the front rank of Marines, “Unfortunately you aren’t it,” the platoon shifted uneasily as Highway walked along the front rank. “We will blaze a path into battle for others to follow,” Highway explained, “Surrender is not in our creed; lets hear you say that.”

“ _Surrender is not in our creed._ ” Came the desultory reply from the platoon.

“Louder,” Highway ordered, “or next time you leave this base it’ll be to collect your pensions!”

It took Recon Platoon two more attempts to achieve the volume and enthusiasm that Highway required. Staying silent Faith couldn’t help thinking that in the combat she’d seen, surrender simply wasn’t an option.

“Ooo-rah!” Highway said with more than a little sarcasm once Recon Platoon had finished reciting their ‘creed’. “Strip off those t-shirts…” Highway ordered the platoon.

“No-way,” Faith said quietly; Gunney Highway turned his head to look at her, did a double take and qualified his order.

“…unless you’re female and not a Marine,” Highway added, “you’ll all wear the same t-shirts or none at all… unless you’re female and not a Marine.”

Reluctantly and with a great deal of grumbling, Recon Platoon removed their t-shirts, once again Highway made his way along the front rank removing one guys shades and telling several others to get their hair cut.

“I want your hair high and tight my tomorrow,” Highway announced before looking over at Faith and Brenda, he sighed just loud enough for Faith to hear, “unless you’re female and not a Marine.” Highway walked back out in front of the platoon, “When you start looking like Marines,” he told them, “you’ll start acting like Marines….right face!” the platoon turned to the right at Highway’s order, “Forward march!”

The platoon marched for a couple of hundred yards until they came to a dusty field covered in dry, trodden down grass where they did some setting up exercises. After about ten minutes of this, Highway formed up the platoon and they trotted off out onto the wider training area to the east of the base. Trotting along at the rear of the platoon, Faith noticed that Highway was setting an easy pace; she could keep this up all day and night if needs be. Glancing over at Brenda she was glad to note that her friend didn’t seem overly stressed by the pace or the rising temperature. On they ran over a rickety bridge that crossed a dry river bed and up the slope on the other side, Faith had just started to work up a sweat but that was more to do with the sun that beat down on them than the work-out, again she looked over to check on Brenda.

“You okay, B?” Faith asked quietly.

“Walk in the park, Slay,” Brenda replied, she’d caught her second breath and was dealing with the run pretty well unlike some of the platoon.

After crossing the dry river the platoon had lost all order and was running as a disorganised gaggle; some of them were beginning to flag. However, when they saw the two women running easily at the rear of the platoon, male pride got the better of them and they stepped up their pace again to rejoin the platoon. Smiling to herself, Faith shook her head.

“What’s up?” Brenda asked.

“Highway’s one sneaky son-of-bitch,” Faith told her friend.

“Hey,” Brenda grinned at Faith, “he’s a senior non-com it goes with the territory.”

“No look,” Faith began to explain, “he’s left us back here because he knows that those losers will be too prideful to drop back behind us.”

Eventually the platoon appeared to get fed up of Highway’s approach of just running as if he was going to run forever and sprinted past him and on up the track towards an abandoned Amphibious Personnel Carrier in the distance, Faith and Brenda closed up to Highway.

“You fixin’ on invading South Carolina, Gunney?” Faith wanted to know.

“You ladies okay back there?” Highway glanced down at Faith and Brenda, “I know the physical requirement for females is different than for males, so if you want to drop out…?”

“Nah,” Faith shrugged as she ran along beside Highway, “I can keep this up all day…” she left her concern for Brenda unsaid, but Highway picked up on it anyway.

“Couple more miles,” Highway told her, “this track leads back to the base, okay?”

“Fine,” Faith agreed as she dropped back to run next to Brenda. “You hear that B?” Brenda nodded her head she was now saving her breath for running and not talking, “You okay?”

“Sure,” Brenda nodded her head, “I’m doing better than those dicks.”

The platoon had come to a halt by the ‘track’ where they were now standing about gasping for air; Faith almost laughed out loud at the expressions on their faces as they watched the three non-coms trot on by.

0=0=0=0

**Wesley’s Apartment, Jacksonville.**

“Rupert?” Wesley yelled into the mouth piece of the telephone.

“Good god man!” Giles replied after a short pause, “There’s no need to shout and do you realise what time it is over here?”

“Sorry,” Wesley glanced at his watch, “its about ten in the morning…”

“Which makes it about tea time here!” Giles informed him testily.

“It does?” Wesley glanced at his watch again and made some mental calculations, “sorry,” he gulped, “but this couldn’t wait.”

“What’s wrong,” Giles sighed all the way from England, “you’ve not run out of tea again have you? I told you to take plenty…”

“No,” Wesley reassured him, “its not that, it’s just that I’ve got a bit of a situation and I wanted your advice.”

“Situation?” Giles’ voice became ultra serious, “What sort of situation?”

“Well it all started a couple of nights ago,” Wesley explained, “Rona was patrolling the local bus station when she saw a young woman kill a vampire.”

“Slayer?” Giles asked.

“Yes,” Wesley continued, “I wasn’t sure to begin with but I checked up and she’s definitely a slayer…”

“There shouldn’t be another slayer in your area,” Giles informed him, “unless she’s an independent.”

Not all slayers had been contacted by the Reformed Watchers Council, these women were referred to as ‘independents’.

“Well precisely,” Wesley acknowledged, “but there’s something else…it was Faith Lehane.”

The phone went dead and Wesley thought the connection had been broken, when Giles spoke again, Wesley nearly jumped out of his skin.

“You’re sure?” Giles asked.

“Not at first,” Wesley admitted, “I only met her the once and of course she’s changed over the years.”

“Yes quite,” Giles agreed.

“What am I supposed to do?” Wesley wanted to know, “She’s obviously working with the US Army now, both times we’ve spotted her she’s been in the company of another female soldier…perhaps Major Finn knows about her?”

“I expect he does,” Giles replied slowly.

“He does?” Wesley replied.

“Listen very carefully, Wesley, I shall say this only once,” there was a short pause before Giles started to speak again. “Under no circumstances, I repeat, under _no_ circumstances are you to approach Miss Lehane. You will not communicate with her in anyway, in fact you will avoid her at all costs even if that means that both you and Rona have to leave town for the duration of her stay, do you understand?”

“Erm,” Wesley scratched his head, he didn’t understand not in the least, “no Rupert I don’t, she’s dangerous, a killer and now she seems to be working with the US military this all sounds like the Initiative again.”

“Take it from me it isn’t,” Giles replied, “I’ll contact Major Finn and try to find out what’s actually going on over there, but in the meantime rest assured that Miss Lehane’s involvement with the US Army is all legal and above board.”

“Legal?” Wesley could hardly believe his ears, “but…”

“Listen, Wesley,” Giles’ voice took on a low menacing tone, “failure to comply with these instructions will result in several very important people getting extremely annoyed with you, I will be the least of your problems. These orders originate with Mrs Finn herself.”

“Mrs Finn!” Wesley gulped and turned deathly pale.

“Correct,” Giles confirmed Wesley’s worst fears, “unless you want Buffy after your hide you will leave Miss Lehane well alone, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Wesley squeaked down the phone.

“Good,” Giles sighed with relief, “now I’m going to call Buffy and Riley and find out what Faith is doing down there. In the meantime I suggest you keep well away from her and just get on with your normal duties, leave everything to me, understand? I’ll call you back in about twelve hours, hopefully by then I’ll have more information.”

After signing off, Wesley replaced the receiver with a trembling hand, he didn’t know what he was more worried about. A rogue, killer, slayer who’d somehow got to be working with the US Army, or the thought that Mrs Buffy Anne Finn would come after him if he disobeyed orders.

0=0=0=0

**Camp Lejeune.**

Training continued for the rest of the week with a mixture of PT, Field Problems and visits to the firing range. It wasn’t that the young Marines didn’t know what they were doing; it was just that they weren’t very eager to do it. They were also pretty lax; on one visit to the ranges the Marine who’d been nicknamed ‘Profile’ by Highway almost managed to shoot Major Powers. Not that Faith thought that the loss of Powers would be a bad thing. The Marine Corps would probably be a better place without the man but you just couldn’t let accidents like that go without someone doing something. Luckily, Powers didn’t put Profile on report; he was too worried about his battalion’s record to have a black mark against it so soon. As a result Profile had to run around and around the platoon with his rifle above his head as they marched back to base.

Of course there were days when Highway decided to liven things up a little himself; like the day he took it into his head to shoot up the platoon. It’d happened something like this; as usual the platoon had been out on a run with Highway in the lead and Faith and Brenda bringing up the rear to catch any stragglers. They were following a dry stream bed through a small scrub filled valley when Faith noticed that Highway was nowhere to be seen. As she ran on she started to get the same feeling that she’d got so often in Iraq just before the bullets and the RPG’s started to fly, she turned to Brenda.

“Ambush,” Faith whispered just before she disappeared into the undergrowth at the side of the track.

Working her way stealthily back down the path they’d taken, Faith saw Highway step out of the bushes on the other side of the track. He lifted an AK47 to his shoulder and fired. The weapon stuttered as its bullets threw up clouds of dust at the platoon’s feet. The men of Recon Platoon reacted badly to their first taste of live fire; they yelled and panicked and generally ran around like headless chickens. While this was going on, Brenda just stood stock still. Having reasoned that Highway wasn’t actually trying to kill anyone she’d decided that by standing perfectly still she was unlikely to get hit by accident. It also made her look amazingly cool, standing there apparently unconcerned while bullets kicked up the sand at her feet. If the truth was told she was scared shitless, but she tried not to let it show.

“WHAT THE HELL’S GOIN’ ON MAN?” yelled Stitch being one of the first to recover from the attack.

“This is the AK47 Assault Rifle,” Highway informed the platoon as he rested the weapon’s butt on his hip. “The preferred weapon of your enemy and it makes a distinctive sound when fired at you, remember it.”

Slinging the rifle over his shoulder, Highway glanced along the trail before looking directly at Brenda.

“Where’s Sergeant Lehane?” he asked; Brenda didn’t reply she just stood there with a slight smile on her face.

Frowning, Highway got the feeling that someone’s eyes were burning holes in his back; he turned to find Faith standing a couple of yards behind him.

“Bang! You’re dead,” Faith told him quietly.

“Hell.” Highway replied deadpan, “You’re good, you sure you’re not a Marine?”

0=0=0=0

Saturday finally arrived and after Recon Platoon had talked themselves into another PT session by not going along with the easy plan Highway had worked out because it was Saturday; it was nearly midday when Faith and Brenda got back to their hut.

Wrapping a towel around herself; Brenda started to towel her short blonde hair dry as she left the washroom and entered the sleeping area. Here she found Faith had already showered and changed.

“Hell!” Brenda laughed, “How yuh do that?” her eyes roved over Faith’s uniform, “An’ yuh must be the only woman in this here army that gets to look so hot in DCU’s!”

“It’s all part of the hotness that is me,” Faith brushed some imaginary lint from the front of her uniform. “I’m goin’ to borrow a Hummer an’ go into Jacksonville, I need some stuff, ya wanna come with?”

“Nah,” Brenda sat down heavily on her bunk, “I’m pooped, I’m gonna crash out for the afternoon, we still going out tonight?”

“Sure,” Faith started to head for the door, “I’ll be back in plenty of time.”

0=0=0=0

Leaving the Hummer in a parking lot just off Jacksonville’s Main Street, Faith strolled along the road looking for what she wanted. Not having much need for them in Iraq or indeed at Fort Leonard Wood, Faith was looking for some civilian clothes. At the moment she had precisely one and a half outfits, neither of which she would feel comfortable wearing to a church social. Hell, she wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing them to most night clubs; she had begun to think that her taste in clothes was way too ‘slutty’ or maybe she was just getting older and more responsible.

Finding a mall, Faith went in and quickly found what she wanted; a couple of pairs of jeans, a few not too revealing tops and some new underwear. She also picked up something girlie for Brenda by way of a small gift. Clutching her purchases, Faith walked back out onto the street, glancing at her watch she realised that she’d not taken as long over her shopping as she thought she would. Walking down the street she bought a magazine from a news stand and then crossed the road to a coffee shop. Placing her bags next to a chair she sat down at a table on the sidewalk under the shop’s yawning. Sensing the waitress come over to her, Faith looked up to see the cute coloured girl from the Palace Bar staring down at her.

“Hi!” the girl said with a smile on her face, “What can I get y-you…”

Just for a moment the two women’s eyes locked; Faith read the girl’s face in an instant, she saw fear and confusion in her eyes as she fiddled nervously with her pen and order pad.

“Large coffee,” Faith smiled reassuringly at the girl, “and a Blueberry Muffin, please.”

“S-sure,” the waitress scribbled a note, “be right back.”

Watching as the girl almost sprinted into the shop to get her order, Faith frowned. Perhaps there was something going on between the creepy old English guy and the girl. Perhaps creepy guy was abusing her, she’d noticed a sort of haunted look about the girl, a reluctance to look you in the eye. Shaking her head, Faith decided to ask the girl when she came back; Faith wanted to see if she needed help.

0=0=0=0

“Weasely?” Rona stood behind the counter pressing her cellphone to her ear.

“It’s…” Wesley’s automatic response came over the phone, but Rona cut him off before he could get properly started.

“She’s here,” Rona watched Faith through the window of the shop; okay, Rona knew she shouldn’t be scared, she was a slayer after all, but; Faith Lehane was a rogue, killer, slayer who’d fought and nearly beaten Buffy Summers.

“Whose where?” Wesley replied obviously annoyed at Rona for disturbing him.

“Faith,” Rona whispered, “at the coffee shop, what do I do?”

“Has she done anything?” Wesley wanted to know.

“Well, she ordered a coffee and a muffin,” Rona replied, “and, oh-yeah she gave me the sorta look that said she was gonna kill me!”

“Calm down…” Wesley sighed heavily.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Rona snapped back, “You’re not standing a few feet away from a mad-killer-slayer.”

“Look,” Wesley tried to calm his slayer’s concerns, “I doubt she’ll try anything, after all its broad daylight and there’s people around. I’ll come down as quickly as I can, in the meantime carry on as normal.”

The phone went dead in Rona’s hand.

“Easy for you to say,” Rona repeated miserably to herself; she picked up the tray with Faith’s order and headed on outside.

“Here you go,” Rona placed Faith’s cup and the plate with her muffin on her table, slipping the bill under the plate she turned to head back inside, she froze in mid-step at the sound of Faith’s voice.

“Hey kid.”

Rona turned slowly to see Faith sitting there in her uniform with her magazine open on the table in front of her.

“I saw you at that Palace place a couple ‘o nights ago,” Faith tried to sound friendly with just a touch of concern, “you were with that creepy English guy.”

“No!” despite herself Rona almost laughed at Faith’s description of Wesley, “You musta got me mixed up with someone else.”

“Hard to do,” Faith pointed out, “you were about the only black chick in the joint.”

“Yeah okay,” Rona injected a little defiance into her voice, “what’s it to you?”

“Look, honey,” Faith said softly, “what’s that creepy guy to ya?”

“I don’t know what you mean?” Rona didn’t need to act surprised she _was_ surprised.

“Look,” Faith gave the girl a serious look, “I’m an MP, a military cop I’ve been trained to pick up on stuff and that old dude he just seemed ‘wrong’ to me, what’s he got on ya?”

“Nothing,” Rona took a step away from Faith, “he’s just a friend.”

“A friend, huh?” Faith didn’t believe a word of it, “Look kid, is he abusing you?” Faith asked in an urgent whisper, “I can’t arrest him, but I can go with you to the cops, we can make him stop whatever it is he’s doing to you.”

“Wesley!?” Rona almost laughed at the idea of ‘Weasely’ abusing her, she didn’t even let him touch her during training sessions.

“That his name?” Faith wanted to know.

“Look,” Rona smiled, “you’ve got it all wrong,” she took a deep breath as she tried to think of what to say, “Look Wesley’s my sorta tutor from school, he’s harmless…okay he looks creepy but he’s not, well, not really…”

“Okay,” Faith shook her head, she’d tried but you couldn’t help people who didn’t want to be helped. “Have it your own way, but if you change your mind and want someone to go to the cops with ya; come out to Camp Lejeune and ask for Staff Sergeant Lehane, 1st Battalion, Recon Platoon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Rona started to retreat towards the shop door, “but you’ve got it all wrong, I’m fine…honest!”

0=0=0=0

“Where is she?” Wesley demanded when he finally turned up five minutes after Faith had left.

“She’s gone,” Rona informed him as she tidied up behind the counter, “you sure she’s a mad-killer?”

“Yes!” Wesley was surprised by the tone of Rona’s voice, “Why?”

“Its just that she didn’t sound like a crazy killer,” Rona leant on the counter and stared at the table where Faith had been sitting. “She sounded nice…”

“NICE!?” Wesley covered his mouth with his hand and looked around the coffee shop as several heads turned at his outburst, “What do you mean, ‘nice’?”

“She sounded concerned,” Rona explained.

“Concerned?” Wesley didn’t like the sound of this; perhaps Lehane had some hypnotic hold over people.

“Yeah,” Rona glanced at her watcher and grinned, “she thought you were abusing me,” at this point Rona actually laughed, “as if I’d let you lay one finger on my pretty black hide!”

0=0=0=0


	5. Chapter 5

5.

**06:00hrs, Camp Lejeune.**

Opening the door to the accommodation hut, Faith stepped out onto the company street to find it completely devoid of any members of Recon Platoon. It was Monday morning and it was her turn to take the platoon on their early morning run. Gunney Highway and herself had discussed the training routine over the weekend and had come to the conclusion that it was pointless them both getting up early in the morning so they’d take it in turns to lead the platoon through its morning PT. Having lost the toss, Faith had drawn Monday morning.

Walking over to the open door of Recon Platoon’s sleeping quarters she paused at the door to listen. Hearing voices she surmised that the platoon was at least out of its beds and moving around. Waiting for a moment before she walked into the still dark hut; Faith could see most of the platoon huddled in a group down at the far end.

“Life was a hell of a lot more easier before Frankenstein and his bride turned up,” came a voice from out of the crowd of young Marines; Faith paused to listen to what was going on.

“How am I goin’ to play on American Bandstand,” Faith recognised that voice as belonging to Corporal ‘Stitch’ Jones. “All this mucho soldiering shit is bad for my hands!”

“Okay you losers,” Faith called as she pushed her way through the knot of Marines, “fall in out on the street.”

At the moment, Faith wasn’t particularly pissed at anyone. All soldiers and she supposed Marines were entitled to gripe, as long as it didn’t interfere with doing business. However, when no one moved at her order she got to thinking that this was more than just griping.

“I said fall in,” Faith looked around at the Marine’s grinning faces, “now!”

Still no one moved except one Marine who stood up and looked down at her.

“We ain’t goin’ no place,” Private Aponte informed her forcefully.

“All this play-war stuff is just bullshit,” Private Collins advised her.

“This is all a question of mind over matter,” Stitch was now taking his turn at getting in her face, “we don’t mind ‘cause you no longer matter. You’ve been voted out of office, bitch.”

“I know what this is all about,” Faith shook her head in sorrow, “ya think that just because I’m a woman ya can push me around.” Faith took a step towards Stitch, “Well, I ain’t your mama or ya sister and I’m definitely not ya honey so I ain’t taking this bullshit from you losers, now get out on that street before I kick ya asses clear off this fuckin’ planet, you understand me?”

“Oh I don’t think so, babe,” Jones replied holding his ground.

Sighing, Faith wondered why it always had to come to this, she’d not had this problem getting accepted by her platoon out in Iraq, maybe it was just something about Marines?

“Swede,” Jones called, his eyes never leaving Faith’s; the rest of the platoon started chanting, “Swede, Swede, Swede!”

As the chant got louder, Faith saw a Marine get up from where he’d been waiting in one of the bed spaces. He pushed his way through the crowd of chanting Marines to tower over her, he was a good foot or more taller than she was and built like a battleship. Holding up his hands, Jones called for quiet.

“Sergeant,” Jones reached up and placed his hand on the big guy’s shoulder, “I’d like you to meet my big friend, Swede Johanson.

The Marine in question gave a sort of low growl as he looked down at Faith.

“Swede,” Jones turned to grin at Faith, “say something charming to the Sergeant.”

“I’m gonna rip your head off,” Swede announced in a low rumbling voice, “and shit down your neck.”

All the Marines burst out into mocking laughter.

“So you see, Sergeant Lay-harm,” the Marine known as Fragetti sneered, “tell that asshole Grungy Freeway that we ain’t got no use for either of you, but if you want to send that cute little corporal over we could find a use for her.”

Everyone else in the room, apart from Faith, found this hilariously funny.

“Hit the road, bitch,” Collins advised her in a sing song voice, “and don’t you come back no more, no more, no more!”

“You’re mama never tell ya that’s no way to talk to a lady?” Faith asked coldly, these guys were really beginning to annoy her.

It was more or less at this point that Swede threw his one and only punch. Catching the big Marine’s fist in her hands and soaking up the energy from the blow, Faith stopped the Marine cold. Twisting his wrist, she got him into an arm lock before kicking his legs out from under him. Letting go of Swede’s wrist with one hand, Faith drew back her free hand and punched the huge Marine on the chin. Smiling, she stood back and watched as the big Marine’s eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped unconscious onto the floor. Looking around at all the stunned, silent faces of the platoon, Faith smiled, but it wasn’t the sort of smile you ever wanted to see on the face of another human being.

Okay,” Faith said with quiet menace, “get your asses out on that street, right now,” she turned to watch the platoon make a mad dash for the door.

Once all the platoon had gone, Faith looked down to where Swede was coming to, she’d not actually hit him that hard.

“You alright, Marine?” Faith asked.

“Yes ma’am,” Swede pushed himself slowly to his feet.

“Don’t call me ‘ma’am’,” Faith warned him.

“No Sergeant,” Swede was once again on his feet and towering over Faith, yet somehow he seemed smaller, less threatening, “I’ll get my gear and wait for the MP’s.”

“Why?” Faith frowned up into the big guy’s face, “That was just a quick demonstration of unarmed combat,” she explained, “time for PT, now get out on the street with the others.”

Following, the big Marine outside, Faith smiled to herself. In a way she was glad that what had happened had happened. The story would soon get around the base in no time flat, by the end of the day people would be tripping over themselves to show her the respect that had been sadly lacking since her arrival at Lejeune. After she’d run these assholes ragged for the morning she was confident that they’d be like putty in her hands and Highway and herself might be able to turn them into proper Marines.

0=0=0=0

**Later the same week.**

“Good morning men!” Lieutenant Ring ran along the straggly line of Marines as they made their way through the bush and sand towards their objective, “I thought I’d lead you through this exercise.”

The Lieutenant was Recon Platoon’s platoon leader, since he’d given permission to Gunney Highway to ‘freelance’ the platoon no one had seen much of the young officer. The best that could be said for Lt Ring was that he was young and eager to please. The officer ran up to where ‘Stitch’ Jones was walking with his M4 tucked under his arm.

“Right Corporal,” Ring asked eagerly, “what’s the objective of this exercise?”

“Sir,” Jones suppressed a bored sigh, “we’re to sweep through this area of scrub up to the village…”

The ‘village’ was an area of the training ground that had been set out like a typical hamlet complete with clap board houses and wrecked cars. It was supposed to help the Marines perfect their urban combat skills; at the moment the only thing that Recon Platoon was perfecting was its boredom.

“…once in the village,” Jones continued without any great enthusiasm, “we’re to conduct a house to house search.” Once again Jones sighed, this time with disbelief, “There’s supposed to be a hostage for us to rescue.”

“Outstanding!” enthused Ring, this sounded like an excellent scenario and he couldn’t quite understand why the rest of the platoon didn’t seem to be as excited about it as he was.

Slowly the Marines approached the village, Ring frowned as he looked up and down the long line of Marines. He wondered if he should give the order for the platoon to halt and reorganise before moving into the village; he’d also started to wonder where Gunney Highway and Sergeant Lehane were, he’d not seen either of them all morning. Still feeling uncertain as to what he should do, Ring let the platoon move further into the village.

0=0=0=0

Dressed only in the sexy black underwear that Faith had bought her and her combat boots, Corporal Mitchell stepped out onto the balcony of the white, clapboard, house situated right in the middle of the village. Looking down she saw Recon Platoon spread out in a long uneven line. There were occasional clumps of Marines where they’d drifted together so they could talk to their buddies. Sighing, Brenda imagined what Sergeant ‘Scream’, her old platoon sergeant from Iraq would have said, nothing good she felt sure. Realising and feeling not a little hurt that no one appeared to have noticed her, Brenda resolved to change that state of affairs.

“HEY-ELP!” Brenda cried, “HEY-ELP!” every head in Recon Platoon turned towards her position, “Won’t y’all save me from a-fate worse than death!?” Brenda cried before adding a final, “HEY-ELP!”

After watching for a second as the lead squad started to move towards her building, Brenda stepped back into the house, slipped on her camouflaged jacket and picked up her M4. Moving into position she pulled the Flash-Bang from her pocket and prepared it for action. At the same time over on the other side of the village, Highway looked down at Faith and smiled.

“When I asked her to make a diversion,” Highway chuckled, “I never thought she’d do it like that.”

“We need ‘em thinking with their dicks not there heads,” Faith observed as she shifted the M4 she was carrying into a more comfortable position.

“Okay,” Highway nodded, “looks like the fun’s about to begin, we better get into position.”

0=0=0=0

The fun was indeed about to begin as Lt Ring led Corporal Jones’ squad towards the house where Brenda had put on her little show. The Marines flattened themselves against the side of the house while one of their number kicked in the door. With a fierce yell, Lt Ring led his men into the house where upon several things happened at once.

Bursting into the house, Ring found himself temporarily blinded, rushing in from the bright Carolina sunshine into the dark gloom of the house’s interior was like going instantly from day to night. As more Marines pounded into the house behind him he could have sworn he heard something heavy hit the wooden floor at his feet. Before he got a chance to yell an order to spread out and search the building there was a flash like a thousand flashbulbs going off in front of his eyes followed immediately by the loudest explosion he’d ever heard which sent him stumbling into a wall as thick white smoke filled the house.

0=0=0=0

Tossing the Flash-Bang out of the door and down into the hallway below, Brenda stepped back and covered her ears and closed her eyes. Once the flash and the bang had washed over her she picked up her M4, ran out on to the landing above where the stunned and blinded Marines stood as they tried to recover from the effects of the grenade. Bringing her rifle to her shoulder, Brenda opened fire throwing the already confused Marines into total disarray. Luckily for them, Brenda was only using blanks. Once she’d fired off half her magazine, she took a moment to watch the confusion she’d caused.

“See yuh, suckers!” Brenda called before quickly running back into the room she’d come from; she climbed out of the window and shinned down a rope and onto the ground.

Crouching by the wall of the house she checked that no one was paying her any special attention. Seeing that the Marines were otherwise engaged she ran quickly for her rally point where she’d wait out the exercise.

0=0=0=0

The sound of automatic fire in the confided space of the house beat on Ring’s already tortured ears. Blinded, deafened and choking on the smoke that filled the house like a fog-bank, Ring croaked out an order and led his men back outside. As he stumbled into the daylight the ground appeared to erupt at his feet as live rounds cracked over his head and more Flash-Bangs exploded around him. He wasn’t the first to dive for the supposed safety of the ground.

0=0=0=0

Smiling happily, Faith fired long bursts of blank ammunition at the Marines with one hand, while tossing Flash-Bangs and smoke grenades with the other! While she was doing this, Highway was walking through the screw-up of an assault, firing short bursts from his AK 47 into the soft sand and sending the Marines scurrying for cover. When he saw that none of Recon Platoon were still on their feet he called an end to the exercise and called every body over to the white house.

“That was the most god-awful thing I have ever seen,” Gunney Highway told Recon Platoon a few minutes later; he went and put his hand on Brenda’s shoulder, “See this here little slip of a girl,” the Marines nodded their heads dumbly, “she took out the platoon command squad in less than ten seconds…do not be fooled by what you see ladies, or people like her will jump up and bite you on the ass.” Highway paused for a moment, “Now Sergeant Lehane and myself will show you what you were supposed to do…”

0=0=0=0

It was Saturday once again and somehow Recon Platoon had managed not to talk themselves into an extra morning’s worth of PT. Instead they’d sensibly gone along with Highway’s plan of cleaning up the squad bay and a locker inspection. By ten-thirty, Highway was satisfied and released everyone until zero-six-hundred on Monday morning. 

After spending half-an-hour discussing the next weeks training schedule with Highway, Faith walked briskly back to the hut that she shared with Brenda to find the young woman had packed their gear so they could spend the rest of the weekend away from Lejeune. They’d sort of been planning this all week and as soon as training had finished their plan went into operation with smooth military efficiency. Grabbing their gear they left the hut behind them and got a lift up to the main gate. Here they walked out of camp and down the road a ways until they came to the car rental concession that serviced the needs of the Marine base.

While Faith was signing the papers for the rental agreement, Brenda phoned the motel they’d chosen. The motel was about twelve miles further up the coast which should make it remote enough for them not to be worried about bumping into anyone from the base. The motel also boasted its own pool and access to the beach while the rooms had king sized beds. Just the right size for two energetic young women who’d been making do with a narrow Marine cot.

After an afternoon of lazing by the pool, making love in the king size bed and showering together, Faith and Brenda decided to drive back into Jacksonville. Their plan had been to check out some of the clubs and bars in Jacksonville itself, but somehow they found themselves back at the Palace Bar, watching ‘Stitch’ Jones play his guitar and sing. Despite herself, Faith had to admit that although Stitch’s music wasn’t exactly to her taste (Faith leaned more towards Country and Western) Jones was pretty good at what he did. The two young women had been sitting quite happily watching Stitch perform and holding hands under the table, when Brenda noticed Highway come in and start to try and strike up a conversation with the waitress from the previous night. Deciding that the place was getting too crowded with people who knew them, they decided to go back to the motel.

0=0=0=0

Being the designated driver, Brenda pulled the car keys from her pocket and was just unlocking the door of the rental car when she felt strong arms wrap themselves around her from behind. Shivering with excitement she felt one hand slide across her body before coming to rest between her legs and start to stroke her through her panties. The other hand slipped under her halter top and caressed her breast, while Faith kissed her neck and nipped at her ear lobes with small, sharp teeth.

Moaning with desire, Brenda started to lose control of her hips as her legs began to turn to jelly and she clung on to the roof of the car for support. Her nipples were so hard they hurt and she knew that she’d only get any relief from this delicious agony when Faith took them in her mouth to suck and tease them with her tongue and teeth. Stuffing her fist into her mouth to stifle the great moan of desire that threatened to burst from her throat; Brenda felt Faith’s fingers ease their way under her panties and into her vagina. As Faith stroked her clitoris, Brenda couldn’t believe how Faith could get her so aroused so quickly. Her butt squirming against Faith’s groin, Brenda felt her climax start to grow from deep inside her belly. Gasping for breath and hanging on to the car for support, Brenda felt sure she was going to come any second, it was then that she felt Faith’s body tense against her own.

“What’s wrong, honey,” Brenda moaned desperate for Faith to bring her to her climax.

“Shhh!” Faith breathed into Brenda’s ear, “Ambush.”

“Shit!” Brenda hissed as she felt Faith disengage and crouched down next to the car; following suit, Brenda hunkered down next to Faith and started scanning the parking lot for trouble, she whispered back, “Where?”

Only exposing enough of her head to see over the hood of the car, Faith pointed over towards the bar. Popping up beside her friend Brenda saw by the light of the bar’s security lights, two, scanky looking whores carrying a half unconscious guy between them.

“Fuck it!” Faith snapped angrily while still keeping her voice low.

Because she was whatever she was, Faith’s night vision was way better than most people’s night vision aids. Seeing clearly what was going on and having it confirmed by the cramps in her stomach, Faith knew she’d have to save the drunk sap.

“B,” Faith turned to her friend, “it’s a couple of them bloodsuckers, I gotta kill ‘em, okay?”

“Okay,” Brenda nodded, “what yuh want me to do?”

“When I start beating on ‘em,” Faith explained, “I want ya to get in there and haul that asshole out the way, roger that?”

“Got it, Slay,” Brenda nodded just as Faith disappeared into the night.

0=0=0=0

Hearing the meaty sound of Faith’s fists beating on the two bloodsuckers, Brenda moved in and waited her chance to grab the guy who was now lying on the ground. Noting that Faith was taking the fight into the darkness of the parking lot and away from the bar; Brenda ran over to the semi-conscious guy, grabbed him by the arm and heaved. The guy was tall and weighed a lot more than Brenda had thought he would.

“Fuckin’ crap!” Brenda cursed as she stood astride the guy and tried to get her hands and arms under his arms and body; perhaps if she could lift his body she might be able to drag him away.

Groaning as she lifted the guy’s upper body away from the surface of the parking lot, Brenda took one unsteady step forward and moved the guy about six inches. Just as she wished she wasn’t wearing heels she lost her balance and sat down hard on his stomach. The force of her landing elicited a startled grunt from the guy as he opened his eyes.

0=0=0=0

His head felt like someone had used it for football practice, he rubbed it with his hand as he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was an attractive, young, blonde woman in a very short skirt and wearing a top that exposed more than it covered; he stared at her in surprise.

“Say what!?” he groaned as the sound of a fight finally penetrated his beer and concussion numbed mind; he squinted at the woman, “Corporal Mitchell?”

“Gunney Highway, sir!?” Brenda squeaked back as she recognised the man.

“Just because you’re sitin’ astride my stomach,” Highway groaned, “doesn’t mean we’re gonna take long hot showers into the wee small hours and swapping spit…” Noticing the look on Brenda’s face he realised that he might have said the wrong thing; he’d never been very good at reading women, so he added, “Unless you want to.”

0=0=0=0


	6. Chapter 6

6.

**Monday morning.**

It was nearly nine o’clock and Recon Platoon had been up and working since just after six, when Lt Ring finally appeared. The platoon was standing in formation in combat dress complete with their personnel weapons when the platoon leader arrived full of enthusiasm for the task ahead.

“Platoon, attention!” Highway croaked; the platoon came smartly to attention as Lt Ring came to a halt in front of them.

“Thank-you, Gunney,” Ring and Highway exchanged salutes. “What a fine morning for a military exercise!” Ring began, “Men…” Ring hesitated and glanced over to where Faith and Brenda stood, “and erm, women, today we will execute an ambush against a numerically superior force, by using cover, surprise, interlocking fields of fire and the natural aggressiveness of the United States Marine.”

Glancing at each other, Faith and Brenda rolled there eyes in despair.

“We will provide Major Powers,” Ring continued with his little ‘pep’ talk, “and his elite force an accessible target to sharpen their superior fighting skills; this will be facilitated by the MILES Gear that each team will wear.”

Shifting slightly, Faith checked the harness with its laser detectors that she and everyone else wore. Attached to the muzzle of her M4 was a laser emitter which would be activated by the sound of each blank round she fired. It all added up to a very expensive way of playing Cowboys and Indians.

“Excuse me Lieutenant,” Highway interrupted, “Are you hinting that we don’t fight back?”

Faith doubted that anyone else other than the men closest to where Highway stood could actually hear what was being said; Faith could of course and she was really interested to hear how Ring would reply.

“Well, yes Gunney,” Ring replied in little more than a whisper, “The Major likes to use Recon Platoon as a training tool.”

“So, what happens when these men,” Highway gestured towards Recon Platoon, “go into combat and aren’t prepared? They just get dead?”

Not liking the sound of this, Faith glanced at Brenda who was standing next to her unaware of what was being said; Faith would rather not have herself or Brenda ‘get dead’ any time soon.

“Yes,” Ring looked uncomfortable at the thought Highway had put into his head, “I see what you mean.”

“Have you talked this over with Major Powers?” Highway wanted to know.

“Let’s move ‘em out Gunney!” Ring snapped refusing to answer the question.

“Are you coming with us Lieutenant?” Highway asked pointedly.

“No Gunney,” Ring replied self-consciously, “I have a doctors appointment at eleven-hundred.”

“Well, I hope it’s nothing that’ll keep you out of the next war…sir,” Highway replied before calling the platoon to attention and marching them off to the training ground.

Marching in their usual place at the rear of the platoon, Faith and Brenda were the last to pass by Lt Ring. Glancing out of the corner of her eye at the young officer, Faith almost felt sorry for the guy. At least he had the decency to look slightly ashamed of himself, she could tell he wanted to do the right thing, he just didn’t know what it was and there was no one there to show him. Given the chance he’d not turn into another Lt Underpants (her old platoon leader in Iraq), Faith shrugged resignedly, she just hoped he’d get the chance before he got someone killed.

0=0=0=0

A herd of elephants would have made less noise than Recon Platoon did as they moved through the area of scrub towards the assigned ambush sight. The men were talking and most carried their rifles tucked under their arms like they were going for a Sunday stroll in the woods. Standing to one side of the track, Highway had an expression on his face like he could smell something bad, his eyes fell on Faith as she and Brenda came into view. Highway gave a reluctant smile when he saw the two women, at least they were moving like the combat veterans they were.

“Slay!” Highway called Faith over.

“Gunney?” Faith drifted like a ghost over to where Highway stood.

“You heard that back at base?” Highway asked, he’d noticed Faith had better than average hearing.

“Sure did,” Faith nodded as she watched Brenda go by.

“What do you think we oughta do about it?” Highway asked casually. 

“I think we should kick Powers’ ass, Gunney,” Faith grinned.

“My thinking exactly,” Highway agreed with a nod, “we need to give these losers a victory. Show ‘em that they’re Marines not ‘training tools’.”

“I’m with ya on that,” Faith nodded, “what ya want me to do?”

“I set up a trip wire a ways down the track,” Highway explained, “you sneak ahead of the column and spring it. Once we’ve got everyone’s attention we’ll get this circus organised.”

“On it, Gunney,” Faith replied before Highway could say another word she’d disappeared into the scrub.

Standing looking around, Highway smiled and shook his head, “I’m sure that woman must be half cat or something,” he told himself before hurrying off to catch up with the rest of the platoon.

0=0=0=0

On another part of the training area the jeep carrying Major Powers, Sergeant-Major Choozhoo and Sergeant Webster (first platoon’s platoon sergeant) came to a halt. Climbing from the vehicle, Powers glanced a Sergeant-Major Choozhoo.

“Are you sure Highway’s our man to run the ambush?” Powers asked Choozhoo who was acting as umpire today.

“He’s the best I know at small unit tactics,” Choozhoo pointed out.

Having formed up into a column on the track, First platoon waited for someone to tell them what to do. They didn’t have long to wait as Powers came over to stand in front of them.

“Marines,” Powers called, “today we’re going to kick some recon butt!”

First Platoon howled in anticipation just before Webster marched them off down the track and into the bush.

0=0=0=0

“Unsling those rifles,” Highway pushed himself between Stitch and Quinones as he made his way towards the front of the column, “you’re making too much damn noise.”

“What the hell for?” Stitch replied, “We’re not supposed to win!”

Hiding in the bush beside the track, Faith watched as Recon Platoon approached. Shaking her head in despair she couldn’t help thinking that if these assholes were in Iraq they’d soon be going home…in flag draped coffins. Heaving on the trip wire she brought down the first three guys in the column.

“Shit!” exclaimed Stitch as he started to pick himself up, “What the fuck was that?”

“You’re dead Marines,” Highway pointed out as he stood over the three fallen men, “You just tripped a booby trap that blew your legs off! We’ll have to send out a search party for your testicles…where the hell’s your back up?”

The Marine know as ‘Profile’ raised his hand, he was standing several yards too close to the ambush and too far from where he should be.

“What good are you doing there?” Highway wanted to know.

“Yeah Marine!” Faith appeared out of the bush like some sort of predator making everyone but Highway jump, “What ya doing? Without any covering fire the Gunney would get shot,” Faith looked up into Profile’s face; the Marine looked down at her in fear and trepidation. “Now,” Faith snarled menacingly, “ya wouldn’t want Gunney Highway to get shot now, would ya?”

“N-No ma’am!” Profile replied nervously.

“Yeah,” Highway said as he suppressed the grin that threatened to break out across his scared face, “you guys have just got every man in this platoon killed!”

“Sure as hell makes me glad I’m a woman,” Brenda observed from the rear of the platoon.

“Hey, chill out, Gunney,” Stitch sprang to the defence of his buddies, “that’s what we’re here for.”

“Say what!?” Highway swung around to face Stitch.

“We’re here for that,” Stitch tried to explain, “We’ve ambushed Major Powers three times and always right here, we know what we’re doing.”

“Well, shit-for-brains,” Highway snapped back, “who says we’re going to ambush Powers here?”

“Didn’t you hear Lt Ring?” Stitch asked in confusion, “Major Powers wants us to die in a loud, grotesque, military manner.”

“I don’t give a fuck, what Major Powers wants,” Highway told the platoon.

“That goes double for me,” Faith added, everyone turned to look at her, “Army, see?” Faith smiled, “I’d love to stick it to some asshole Marine Major.”

“Yeah,” Highway nodded, “what Sergeant Lehane said, now in the mean time my job is to keep you losers alive….move out!”

Walking briskly along the track, Highway vanished into the bush. After a moments hesitation Recon Platoon followed on behind.

0=0=0=0

Over at First Platoon’s location, Major Powers stood to one side of the track.

“We’ll be coming to the ambush site over the next hill,” Powers called out.

“Roger that,” Webster agreed, just as he agreed with everything Powers said or did.

“It sure helps,” Sergeant-Major Choozhoo pointed out quietly, “to know where and when you’re goin’ to be hit, sir.”

0=0=0=0

“They’ll be here in about five minutes,” Faith reported as she appeared from out of the bush to stand next to Highway.

“Slay!” Highway turned his head to look down at Faith, he’d not heard her approach, “Are you deliberately trying to give me a heart attack or are you just showing off?”

“Just showing off,” Faith admitted with a grin, “what we got?”

“Simple L-shaped ambush,” Highway explained, “don’t want to confuse these losers.”

Faith nodded her head in agreement, an L-shaped ambush would allow an enemy to walk into a trap and be caught in a cross fire. There was, however a way out for the enemy, if they reacted quickly enough they could turn and run, escaping back the way they’d come.

“You want me an’ B to close the back door?” Faith volunteered.

“Hoped you’d ask,” Highway nodded.

“On it,” Faith turned, called quietly for Brenda to join her before sliding off into the bush.

0=0=0=0

Lying in a ditch behind a bush, Faith and Brenda watched the track waiting for Powers and first platoon to appear.

“Y’know,” Brenda whispered, “for a moment there I thought yuh wanted me to get my gear off again an’ act as a diversion!”

“Nah,” Faith slowly shook her head, “getting you down to your skivvies can wait until we get back to base…Shhh!”

Holding her hand up for quiet, Faith pointed down the track. Sure enough a moment later Powers and First Platoon marched into view. Shaking her head in disgust, Faith imagined herself as an Iraqi insurgent and thought how happy she’d be to see this bunch of assholes coming towards her. The major still had his platoon marching in column along the track. He’d not put out any scouts, flank or rear guards. He was simply presenting his opponent with a big fat juicy target. Just for a moment, Faith wondered if Powers could actually be that stupid, the thought crossed her mind that this might be a trap and there was another force sneaking up on her position. Quickly she did a head count of the approaching platoon; yes, Powers was that stupid.

“Ready,” Faith whispered as she brought her rifle to her shoulder as First Platoon marched by her position.

0=0=0=0

“Easy,” Highway whispered to Johanson who was lying next to him manning the SAW; Recon had been ordered only to open fire once they heard Johanson open up. “Give them a few more yards,” Highway advised, “then we’ll nail the coffin shut!”

Marching at the head of his men, Powers led them deeper into the ambush.

“Stay, frosty,” Faith whispered to Brenda, “they’re nearly dead!”

“Now,” Highway told Johanson who immediately opened up with his SAW.

Within seconds the quiet of the North Carolina bush was shattered by the sound of automatic fire as Recon Platoon swept First Platoon’s ranks with ‘deadly’ laser beams. Within a fraction of a second the first high pitched beeping from the MILES Gear could be heard signifying that men had been hit.

Over at Faith and Brenda’s position the two women open fire within a fraction of a second of each other. They took out the half dozen Marines at the rear of the column before breaking from cover and closing First Platoon’s only avenue of escape. The sound of beeping rose to rival the noise of gunfire as more and more of the panicking confused Marines in the middle of the ambush were hit. 

“CEASE FIRE!” Powers yelled over the sound of the firing, of course no one did. “You’re in the wrong ambush site!” Powers complained as his command fell apart around him, “CEASE FIRE!” He tried again but the firing just went on and on.

Eventually Recon ran out of targets and the firing died out only to be replaced by the sound of Recon’s cheers. Standing next to one another, Brenda looked over at her friend as they made their weapons safe.

“Looks like they’re not ‘losers’ anymore,” Brenda observed.

“Except Powers,” Faith pointed out.

0=0=0=0

Having got back to base, Brenda had been put in charge of supervising weapons cleaning; she could only imagine the chewing out Faith, Highway and Lt Ring would be getting off Powers right now. Sitting on the dry grass behind the squad bay, Brenda laid the parts of her M4 out on her ground sheet as she cleaned them. The rest of Recon Platoon chatted excitedly about their victory over First Platoon; to hear them talk they made it sound like they’d just stormed ashore at Iwo Jima or somewhere. Smiling to herself, Brenda got on with cleaning her rifle.

“Hey, Corporal Mitchell,” Stitch Jones’ voice rose over the general hubbub of the platoon’s self-congratulatory story telling, “I hear you got the Bronze Star over in Iraq…how’d you do that?”

Recon slowly stopped talking and looked over to where the little blonde sat cross-legged on the dirt cleaning her weapon.

“Wasn’t nothin’ much ta talk about,” Brenda shrugged.

“Come on Corporal,” Profile called out, “tell us.”

“Okay,” Brenda sighed, she didn’t like talking about it, she’d been stupid and almost got herself killed. “We were in some Iraqi ville searching for insurgents, right?” Recon nodded its collective head. “We set up in some house coz we’d got left behind when the rest of the company pulled out. Everything was fine until later that night when these three Iraqis opened up on us from the other side of the perimeter wall.”

Pausing for a moment Brenda remembered the barking gunfire, the muzzle flashes and the sound of AK bullets flying through the air above her head, she also remembered being scared out of her wits.

“Yuh gotta understand that one of our guys was pinned down outside; an’ no one could get a-bead on the insurgents, not even Slay…”

“‘Slay’?” Stitch asked.

“Sergeant Lehane,” Brenda corrected herself, Brenda got back to her story, “as I say no one could get a clear line of site on these assholes an’ Dim, the guy who was pinned was in deep shit. Doublewide was yelling that someone should do something an’ I just got up an’ ran out the back ta where the Hummer was parked.” Brenda chuckled quietly, “To tell the truth I was a-bit sweet on Dim an’ I knew I had ta do somethin’.”

“So what’d you do, Corporal?” Johanson asked.

“I jumped into my Hummer, and drove it into the wall the Iraqis were hidin’ behind,” For just a moment Brenda was back in Iraq on that dark night; she remembered the sound the bullets made as they hit the Hummer, she remembered how she’d screamed in terror as she’d hit the wall. “Well,” Brenda sighed, “the long an’ short of it is the wall fell on top of the insurgents an’ killed ‘em.”

There were mutterings of approval from Recon as Brenda paused and decided not to tell them how the insurgents had come back to life and had to be killed all over again.

“Anyway,” Brenda sighed, “I got chewed out by my Platoon Sergeant before he told me he was putting me up for a Bronze Star. Slay just wanted to know if I’d done it coz it needed doing and not because I wanted to die or something stupid like that.” Brenda looked at the shocked looks Recon were giving her, “I was goin’ through some heavy shit at the time…but hey!” Brenda smiled, “Enough of me, you jerk-offs wanna hear how Sergeant ‘Slay’ Lehane got her Silver Star…now that’s a story!”

0=0=0=0

“You take those men to Iraq, sir,” Faith held on to her temper by her finger nails, it’d do Recon no good if she got thrown out and sent back to the army, “You’ll plant half of them in the first week!”

Standing in a line in front of Powers' desk, Faith, Highway and Lt Ring looked down at Powers; Faith and Highway looked at the man in contempt, while Ring looked on in something approaching terror. Powers stared into Faith’s face for a moment, when he realised she wasn’t going to back down he broke eye contact and looked away.

“You did it on your own, didn’t you?” Powers’ gaze turned towards Highway, “You disregarded by directives and ignored the training schedule on your own initiative didn’t you?”

“I can’t fix what’s broke if I don’t know how it’s broken…sir,” Highway replied showing restraint born of long years dealing with idiot officers.

“Hell,” Powers reached for his phone, “you make it easy.”

Hell, Faith cursed inside, Powers was going to side line Highway, send her and Brenda back to the army and Recon would get its collective ass shot off the first time it went into combat for real.

“Sir!” Lt Ring spoke up for the first time from the other end of the line, “I gave Gunney Highway and Sergeant Lehane permission to freelance the men, sir.”

Powers slammed down the phone almost hard enough to break it.

“Wait outside, Ring!” Powers snapped; Lt Ring did a smart about face and marched out into the corridor.

Here it comes, thought Faith as she tried to tune out what Powers was telling herself and Highway. Instead of listening to Powers’ threats she imagined all the unpleasant ways she could kill Powers if she was ever in combat near the asshole. Letting his words wash over her she wondered how such god awful officers found their way into positions of power while good officers like Captain Baron and Lt ‘Little Mac’ McClellan where getting their asses shot at in Iraq and Afghanistan.

“…now get out and send in that idiot Ring!” Powers dismissed the two non-coms with a jerk of the head.

Leaving Powers’ office, Faith and Highway saw Lt Ring standing in the corridor.

“He wants to see you L-t,” Faith called; the guy deserved some respect he’d spoken up and saved her and Highway’s asses when he could have kept his mouth shut, maybe there was some hope for him yet.

“Sorry,” Ring paused in front of the two non-coms.

“No need to be,” Highway reassured him; Ring turned to go back into Powers’ office. “Lieutenant…” Highway stopped the young officer in his tracks, “...Recon!” Highway gave Ring a ‘thumbs up’ before he went in to face Powers.

0=0=0=0

“…an' that’s how Sergeant Slay got her Silver Star,” Brenda came to the end of her story, for a moment there was silence as Recon took in what she’d just told them.

“Shit,” Stitch was the first to break the silence, “she must be one tough, motherfucker!”

“You better believe it,” Brenda agreed.

“This Underpants guy,” Private Collins spoke up from the front of the group, “sure sounds like a Powers in training.”

“Yeah,” Brenda nodded her head as she started to put her M4 back together, “he ain’t no body’s problem now, like I say the rag-heads got him.”

Of this fact, Brenda wasn’t too sure. Like Sergeant Scream she thought Faith had shot the disaster area of a Lieutenant. Not deliberately, by the time Faith had got to where Underpants was she was pretty beat-up and high on morphine for the pain of the burns she’d received earlier. She’d probably thought she’d seen some insurgent looting that van and shot him; it was just their good luck that it’d actually been Underpants. Scream had neatly covered everything up by pretending that it’d never happened and getting rid of Faith’s sidearm so there’d be no evidence.

“Okay, guys,” Brenda stood up as she checked the action of her M4, “enough story tellin’, weapons inspection in two minutes.”

0=0=0=0


	7. Chapter 7

7.

**Camp Lejeune.**

Lying back on her pillows, Faith sighed contentedly as she stroked Brenda’s back and shoulders.

“That was outstanding, Corporal Mitchell,” Faith joked, “I can see when it comes to writing your yearly appraisal, under the section for ‘screwing her supervisor’ I’m gonna have to put ‘exemplary’!”

“Why thank-you-kindly, Sergeant,” Brenda looked up from where her head rested on Faith’s breast and smiled; “What’s up?” she asked as she noticed Faith’s lazy, contented grin slip away.

Frowning, Faith stared up at the ceiling; even using their military titles jokingly like that had made her stop and think.

“Ya do realise how much trouble we’ll be in if we’re ever caught, don’t ya?” Faith asked, her voice serious, she looked down to see Brenda looking up at her. “I want ya to promise me that if we do get caught you’ll say I made ya do it…”

“No-way!” Brenda shook her head vehemently, “If you remember rightly it was me that got into yore bed, I didn’t need ordering I wanted to do it.”

“But…” Faith tried to explain that it was pointless them both getting into so much deep shit that they’d probably sink without trace.

“Hey,” Brenda said softly as she snuggled up to Faith’s body, “we’re in this together if we get thrown outta the army we get thrown out together, right?”

Faith didn’t reply so Brenda squeezed her tightly in her arms, reached up and nipped Faith on the earlobe with her teeth.

“OWW!” Faith cried in surprise and then laughed, “Vicious or what?”

“I said ‘right’?” Brenda repeated.

“Yeah, okay,” Faith sighed, “If we get thrown out we get thrown out together god-damn-it!”

Getting herself comfortable again, Brenda closed her eyes as she listened to Faith’s slow heart beat.

“Put ya hand on my boob would ya?” Faith asked, she smiled as Brenda moved her hand to caress her breast; at times like this, when bad thoughts were going ‘round her head, she found it comforting to have someone touch her like that.

“How far do ya wanna go with this?” Faith asked as Brenda idly played with her nipple.

“What’d’all mean?” Brenda shifted her head so she could kiss Faith’s other breast.

“I mean this,” Faith continued softly, “I mean you an’ me…look we both like guys an’all, so do you wanna be serious about this or is this a ‘just for now thing’?”

“Not thought about it much,” Brenda admitted, “what about you?”

“I think…” Faith paused for a moment while she examined her decision, “...I think I’d like to carry on as we are.”

“Okay,” Faith felt Brenda nod her head against her breast, “I’d like ta see where this takes us. I mean you ain’t gonna get me knocked up again and leave me, are you?”

“Not planning on it,” Faith admitted.

“Cool,” Brenda muttered as she shifted slightly and got herself comfortable before she closed her eyes.

Listening to Brenda’s breathing and heart beat, Faith knew that the girl had fallen asleep and wished she could do the same. There were, however, too many things going ‘round in her mind to settle down just yet. Just lately, Faith had found she was considering her choices more carefully than she used to; she was twenty-six now (as near as she could guess not having any real past), she was a Staff Sergeant and people relied on her to make the right decisions and not get them killed.

If Brenda and herself where going to continue their relationship while they were in the army they were both going to have to make a lot of hard choices. If this turned into a life long commitment, Faith shivered at the very idea, it frightened her more than any insurgent ambush ever had; they were both going to have to leave and strike out on their own. Closing her eyes, Faith felt confident that she could get into the civilian police or something, Brenda probably could too if she wanted. But the army was the one stable factor in Faith’s weird and mysterious life, she loved the army for all of its bullshit. The question was, did she love Brenda as much or more?

Before she could tie herself up into even more mental knots thinking about her relationship with Brenda and her career in the army. Her sensitive ears picked up the sound of a siren wailing in the distance. Frowning she listened as the sound got louder and louder until it was unmistakeable and couldn’t be ignored; she shook Brenda’s shoulder waking her up.

“Alert!” Faith said as she looked into Brenda’s eyes before climbing out of bed.

“Oh-hell!” Brenda moaned as she started to climb from Faith’s bed, “Y’know sometimes I hate this here woman’s army!”

0=0=0=0

“I can’t find my tent!”

“Where’s my poncho liner?”

“Damn-it, who’s got my web gear?”

“Profile, that’s my canteen!”

Walking into Recon Platoon’s accommodation, Faith rested the butt of her M4 on her hip, she turned to Brenda and gave her a resigned smile. Having spent over a year in Iraq both women knew the importance of keeping both their combat gear and weapons close to hand, where they could be grabbed at a moment’s notice. Within minutes of the siren going off they’d both been dressed and lacing up their combat boots. After securing their foot wear, they’d grabbed their equipment vests and weapons and headed out onto the company street.

By contrast, Recon Platoon was doing a pretty passable imitation of an ant’s nest that’d just received a good kicking from a small boy. Marines rushed around looking for equipment that should have been at the bottom of their lockers waiting to be picked up. If there’d been any Iraqi insurgents crawling in under the perimeter wire they’d have blown the camp to kingdom come long before Recon Platoon could have done anything to stop them.

“Okay people!” Faith called out, bringing the chaos in the hut to a surprised halt, “Lets have an equipment check…weapons?”

Recon Platoon held up their rifles.

“Right, lets keep it simple,” Faith smiled, “you’ve got ya boots on you can march into combat, come-on lets go!”

Turning, Faith almost collided with Gunney Highway.

“Slay?” Highway raised an eyebrow as he looked down into Faith’s brown eyes.

“Erm,” once again, Faith felt just a little twinge of desire from being so close to the old Marine, shaking her head slightly she remembered where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. “Recon Platoon as ready as they’ll ever be, Gunney,” she reported.

“Okay,” Highway cast a critical eye over the platoon and seemed to agree with Faith’s assessment of the platoon’s readiness, “Right, fall in on the street…MOVE!”

Stepping out of the way, Highway and Faith watched as Recon Platoon made a mad dash for the door. Out on the company street they found Brenda waiting for them, she quickly chivvied them into ranks and was waiting ready to move by the time the two senior non-coms came out of the hut to join them.

0=0=0=0

Marching onto the regimental sports field the first thing Faith heard was the sound of Powers’ voice, complaining.

“These DD-13-48 request forms aren’t properly filled out,” Powers said officiously, “We’re going to approach this in a proficient and orderly military manner, Sergeant-Major.”

“Yes Sir!” Sergeant-Major Choozhoo managed to hide the frustration in his voice from his C/O.

“I want you to be sure,” Powers turned to examine the seals on a pile of ammunition boxes next to him, “that each round of ammunition is counted and returned in the same condition that it was issued in.”

“I’ll personally dot the iee’s and cross the tee’s, sir,” Choozhoo almost succeeded in disguising the sarcasm in his voice, Powers turned to look down at his Sergeant-Major.

“Sloppiness breeds inefficiency,” Powers snapped as Faith and Highway joined the happy throng around Powers; turning, the Major noticed Highway for the first time, he looked the Gunnery Sergeant up and down, “Your outfit could use some cleaning up, Gunney.”

Rolling her eyes in disgust, Faith turned away from the officer and walked back towards the platoon before she did something that would put her in Leavenworth for the rest of her life. Walking back to the platoon she felt Brenda’s calming presence next to her.

“I swear, B I’ll kill that dick one day,” Faith snarled quietly.

“Hey,” Brenda said soothingly, “it’s not like we’re here forever; what’s the asshole done now?”

“Oh…” Faith calmed herself down and sighed wearily, “...oh, just the usual, y’know? He’s goin’ on about ammo being properly polished or something.”

“Hey look,” Brenda put her hand on Faith’s shoulder and brought her lips closer to Faith’s ear, “this’ll all be just a bad dream and one day when we’re old, fat and drunk we’ll laugh about it, chill-out will yuh?”

“Yeah, I know,” Faith agreed reluctantly.

Okay, so they might be out of this madhouse soon enough, but Recon Platoon would still be here and although she hated to admit it she was growing to like Recon and didn’t want them to get their asses shot off because Powers was a dick.

“Hey, what’s this,” Brenda nodded to where a staff car had pulled up and several officers were in the process of climbing from it.

Looking in the direction Brenda had indicated, Faith caught sight of a Marine ‘bird’ Colonel as he made his way over towards Powers’ command group. However, Faith didn’t have eyes for Marine Colonels, she was more interested in the army Major who’d got out of the car with the Colonel. As he stood to look around, Faith noticed the ‘Ranger’ flash on his shoulder and the way he lipped as he started to walk in her direction.

“Hey, god-damn-it!” Brenda breathed, “That’s…”

“Major Finn, Sir!” Faith snapped to attention and saluted as Riley Finn got closer.

“Sergeant Lehane,” Riley turned towards the sound of the voice and returned Faith’s salute.

“That’s Staff Sergeant now, Sir,” Faith corrected him.

“Congratulations,” Riley held out his hand to shake Faith’s.

“Right back at ya, Sir,” Faith nodded to the Major’s oak leaves on the collar of his camouflaged jacket.

“Comes with the new job, Staff Sergeant,” Riley smiled down at Brenda, “You must be…”

“Corporal Mitchell, Sir!” Brenda braced up.

“Nice to see you again, Mitchell,” Riley nodded, “bit different from when we last met.”

“Yes Sir!” Faith and Brenda replied together.

The last time the three of them had met was in the Iraqi desert, Riley’s Hummer had run over a mine and he’s lost his right leg from the knee down. Faith, Brenda and their friend Esmeralda (Doublewide) Del Rio had found Riley under a thorn tree near the crash site. After a couple of skirmishes this some weird Hellhound things and a major run in with a bunch of insurgents, they’d managed to get Riley to safety. He and Faith had shared the same casevac chopper; later Faith received her first Purple Heart and a Bronze Star to keep it company.

“If you don’t mind me askin’, Sir,” Faith relaxed a little, “did you ever marry that blonde lady?”

“Miss Summers, you mean?” Riley smiled, “Sure did couple of months after I got out of hospital, why?”

“Well, Sir,” Faith dipped her head in embarrassment, “next time you see her, could you tell her thanks for coming to see me in hospital, it meant a lot to me that she’d make the time.”

“Sure will, Sergeant,” Riley smiled and nodded; the truth was that Buffy had gone to kill or capture Faith as she lay recovering from her wounds after her platoon had been ambushed and badly shot up.

However, when Buffy realised that Faith was now a different woman and had no idea what she or Buffy really were; she’d left Faith as she was to continue with her new life undisturbed by slayers and watchers.

“So,” Riley decided he needed to get on with the real reason he was here, “what the hell are you two doing here,” he glanced at the badges on Faith and Brenda’s uniforms, “MP’s? Come to arrest the Marine Corps?”

“Show ‘em how its done, more like Sir,” Faith commented, “bunch of know-nothin’ virgins, get themselves shot dead if we weren’t here to hold their hands.”

“I know the military is short of personnel,” Riley pointed out, “but mixing army and Marines? I’d have thought that was a recipe for disaster.”

“Seems to be working, Sir,” Faith shrugged, “there was some friction coz we’re like army _and_ women but we got over that.”

“So how long are you here for?” Riley was fishing for information; when Rupert Giles had contacted him with the news that Faith was in Jacksonville at the Marine Base, he’d tried to find out why.

It was only after several days of fruitless investigation that he discovered that the decision had been taken well above his level, probably somewhere in the Pentagon. The only thing he’d really found out was that Faith’s present posting was something of an experiment to see if this kind of shifting personnel from service to service would work.

“Don’t know, Sir,” Faith shrugged, “the whole thing’s been a screw-up from the get go.”

“Well,” Riley glanced over to where the Marine Colonel was looking as if he was about to leave, “you seem to be okay here, anything I can do for you?”

Faith knew the unspoken code here, Major Finn was actually asking her if she was having any problems that needed an officer, particularly an important, highly decorated officer with connections to deal with.

“No, Sir,” Faith shook her head, “we’re good.”

“Good, I’ll be sure to mention the both of you in my report, now I’ve got to go.” Riley returned Faith and Brenda’s salutes before heading on back to the staff car.

“That’s weird,” Brenda commented as she watched Finn get back into the staff car.

“Not as weird as zombies, hellhounds and bloodsuckers,” Faith pointed out.

“Not so sure about that, Slay,” Brenda pointed out, “weird shit happens ‘round our Major Finn. Now why do yuh suppose he just happened to turn up at the same time as us chickens?”

“Aww,” Faith turned away to head back to where Recon Platoon waited, “ya worry too much, its probably just more army bullshit!”

The two women walked slowly back towards where Powers and the rest of the officers and non-coms where standing.

“ _Now hear this!_ ” A voice sounded from out of the loudspeakers that surrounded the sports field, “ _Now hear this!_ ”

“This is it,” Powers whispered excitedly, “we’re going to war.”

Highway, Faith and Lt Ring all exchanged despairing looks.

“ _This has been an emergency deployment readiness exercise,_ ” announced the voice, “ _We are standing down, the alert has been cancelled._ ”

“Damn it!” Cursed Powers.

“Maybe next time Sir,” Highway told him as he turned away.

“Okay Recon!” Faith called rousing the platoon from where it had been resting, “You heard the man, gather up your gear we’re moving out!”

0=0=0=0

A couple of hours later after the alert had been cancelled, Riley sat in an office at 1st Battalion’s HQ block and placed a call to Fort Drum in New York State. The phone rang twice at the other end before it was answered.

“Hi there,” came the happy voice that still made his heart do back flips, “Mrs Finn here.”

“Buffy,” Riley smiled down the phone at the sound of his wife’s voice, “It’s Riley.”

“Riley!” Buffy squealed happily, “Hey guys,” it sounded as if Buffy had turned away from the mouthpiece and was talking to someone else, “its Riley, so get outta here so I can talk to my husband in peace.”

Smiling as he heard faint comments from what sounded like Dawn and Willow, Riley waited for Buffy to get back on the line again.

“Okay, talk we’re alone now,” Buffy told him, “first when are you coming home?”

“Couple of days yet,” Riley told her, he almost imagined he could see her pouting in disappointment, “look I’ve really called about Faith.”

“Yeah, okay,” Buffy covered her disappointment at hearing that Riley wouldn’t be back home for a few days yet, “Have you found out what the hell’s going on down there?”

“I don’t think its anything more than some almighty army-Marines screw up,” Riley confessed.

“You don’t ‘think’?” Buffy repeated back to him.

“Look I’m ninety percent sure it’s a screw up,” Riley reassured her. “its just a coincidence that she’s turned up here at the same time as Wesley and Rona.”

“Well okay,” Buffy replied reluctantly, “if you’re fairly sure that you’re sure I can tell Giles to tell Wesley to keep his head down.”

“If you like,” Riley massaged his eyes, it was late, his leg hurt and he’d much rather be in bed with Buffy than just talking to her on the phone, “I can find Wesley and warn him off.”

“Yeah,” Riley imagined the determined look his wife would be giving the phone right now, “good idea. A visit from my big, tough, soldier-boy will scare the be-jeezus out of him…then you can come home and keep me company, you know that bed of ours is so big and empty without you here…”

0=0=0=0

Glancing at her watch, Faith saw that it was just after one o’clock in the morning, she’d have to be up at seven tomorrow…or was that today? Was it tomorrow if you’d not gone to sleep? If that was so, from the amount of sleep she’d missed over the years she must be living about two weeks in the past. However, she didn’t feel tired, in fact she felt a little hyped up; the idea that the alert might have been real and they might have been going into combat had woken the thing inside her that made her eager to fight. Looking over to where Brenda snored quietly in her own bunk, Faith decided to take a walk around the block perhaps she’d feel better afterwards and be able to get to sleep.

Walking quietly around the back of Recon Platoon’s hut, Faith saw a figure moving between two shadows. Immediately her stomach cramped and she knew instinctively that something wasn’t right. Stepping back into the deepest part of the shadow behind the hut, she waited for the figure to resolve itself so she could see what she was facing. It didn’t take long for the intruder to reveal his identity.

“Bloodsucker,” Faith whispered to herself, slowly the anger started to rise from her belly into her chest; one of the things that really pissed her off about bloodsuckers was how unpatriotic they were.

Just who the hell did this monster think it was, sneaking onto a Marine Base and sniffing around her guys like this. Tensing ready to strike, Faith waited for the fiend to come into range which it eventually did. Not seeming to have noticed Faith who was standing like a statue in the shadows hardly breathing. The bloodsucker reached for the door leading into Recon’s hut; Faith’s hand shot out and grabbed the creature’s wrist and started to squeeze. Feeling the monsters bones rub together and turn to dust, Faith punched him in the throat to stop him calling out in pain or surprise.

However, Faith wasn’t surprised when the bloodsucker started to fight back, she knew from bitter experience that injuries that would disable a normal human were like nothing to a bloodsucker. The first time she’d come across these things was in Iraq. She’d shot the monster twice in the chest, he’d gone down, for a time. When he’d got right back up again and she’d almost been too shocked to defend herself. It was only good luck and perhaps some weird instinct that let her snap its neck and kill it.

These days, Faith didn’t mess around, when faced with one of these things she’d quickly disable it and then break its neck. She really wished she could find another way of killing them, but the middle of a fight was no time for experimentation. The fight went on quietly behind the hut, neither Faith nor the bloodsucker wanted to attract anyone’s attention for completely different reasons. Faith didn’t want to have to explain herself and the bloodsucker didn’t want to explain why he was on a Marine Base in the middle of the night.

Throwing the bloodsucker onto his back, Faith landed on his chest knees first, she heard ribs break under her as she grabbed hold of the creature’s ears. She twisted its head violently left and right, she heard the dead wood, snapping sound of the monster’s neck breaking just before he turned to dust and Faith found herself kneeling on the ground. Standing up slowly, she pushed her hair from where it’d fallen into her eyes. 

“That was weird,” she told herself; just before the bloodsucker had died it’d called her something, it had called her ‘slayer’.

Walking away from the small pile of dust, Faith wondered how the bloodsucker had almost got her nick-name right. Shrugging, she yawned and turned her feet towards her bed. After this little piece of excitement she’d have no problem getting to sleep.

0=0=0=0


	8. Chapter 8

8.

**Rona and Wesley’s Apartment, Jacksonville.**

“Well, hello salty goodness,” Rona breathed quietly as she opened the apartment’s door. 

Standing there with one hand on the door holding it open she slowly looked up and up at the soldier, until she was looking into his face. The reason she was still holding onto the door was because she didn’t trust her legs to hold her upright; this had to be the best example of all-American manhood she’d seen in a loooong time!

“Good morning Miss,” the soldier spoke and Rona sighed longingly; he could speak, she fought down the urge to just grab him and drag him into her room, “I’m Major Finn does Mr Wyndam-Price live here?”

The mention of Weasely’s name drove all thoughts of doing anything ‘naughty’ with this guy completely from Rona’s mind; anyone who wanted to speak to Weasely couldn’t be… Bringing her disappointment under control, Rona replayed what the soldier had said through her mind again.

“Major Finn?” Rona frowned up at the guy.

“That’s right,” he smiled and Rona felt her legs start to turn to jelly again and she had to hang on to the door once more.

“The ‘Major Finn’ that’s married to Ms Summers,” Rona hesitated and then corrected herself, “I mean Mrs Finn?”

“One and the same,” he smiled again and Rona had serious difficulties in stopping herself from embarrassing herself right there on the doorstep.

“Well what you standing there for?” Rona took hold of Riley’s arm and pulled him into the apartment, she closed the door after checking there was no one in the corridor watching. “What do you want my no-account watcher for?” Rona led Riley through to the living room, “Coffee?”

“Please,” Riley replied as he looked around the room; it seemed a nice apartment, roomy without being too big and soulless, tidy and tastefully furnished.

“Sit y’self down,” Rona called from the kitchen as she poured Riley a mug of freshly brewed coffee.

“I need to speak to him about Miss Lehane,” Riley lowered himself gratefully into a chair and stretched out his injured leg; some days it hurt more than others, today wasn’t so bad, but only Buffy really knew how to make the pain go away completely.

“Miss Lehane?” Rona walked into the room and over to Riley’s chair she handed him the coffee mug. “To hear Weasely talk,” Rona noticed a small smile appear around Riley’s mouth when she used her nick-name for Wyndam-Price, “she’s some rabid killer,” Rona shrugged as she made herself comfortable in a chair facing Riley’s. “I spoke to her once, she seemed nice,” Rona smiled at the memory, “she’d got it into her head that I was Weasely’s sex-slave or somethin’, she offered to go with me to the cops an’ everythin’.”

“Yeah,” Riley nodded, “that would be her…I take it Weasely…I mean Wesley’s not in?”

“Oh he’s out some-place,” Rona didn’t sound too worried, “could be out with the local hookers for all I care.”

“I take it you don’t get along?” Riley asked as he sipped his coffee, it really was damn fine coffee.

“Nope,” Rona shook her head firmly, “I thought him being British an’ all he’d be like Mr Giles?” Rona shook her head again, “But he ain’t, he’s a real buzz kill an’ I don’t need him, I can look after myself.”

“You want me to speak to Buffy about him?” Riley rested his mug on the arm of the chair; the girl looked capable enough and could probably do okay without Wesley hanging around her.

“Would you?” Rona looked at Riley pleadingly.

“Sure,” Riley nodded and finished his coffee.

“So what about the famous Faith Lehane,” Rona settled back into her chair, “I’ll pass on any message you want to leave for Weasely. But if its instructions you’re gonna leave then I don’t know if he’ll obey them…he thinks he knows best, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Riley sighed, “I know, but hey, what can you do?”

“Yeah,” Rona agreed before prompting Riley to go on, “Now what about this here Faith girl?”

“Right,” Riley leaned forward in his chair and laced his fingers together, “Miss Lehane or I should more correctly call her, Staff Sergeant Lehane is a hero…”

0=0=0=0

“Wow,” Rona breathed softly half an hour later when Riley had finished his story. “An’ she did all that stuff without knowing what she is?”

“Yeah,” Riley agreed, “best I’ve been able to work out is she thinks she’s some weird science experiment that went wrong.”

“But surely,” Rona frowned, “someone should tell her the truth so she knows what she’s up against.”

“If we did that,” Riley explained, “we’d have to tell her about all the bad stuff in her life.” Riley sighed sadly, “To be honest Rona I’d rather not do that, who knows what effect it’d have on her. She’s a good soldier and a better human-being now which is why I don’t want Wesley sticking his nose into things that he shouldn’t…” Riley’s voice trailed off as a thought came to his mind.

Wesley Wyndam-Price wasn’t the most popular figure within the world of slayers and watchers. To be honest the only reason he was tolerated was he had connections and he knew where a lot of skeletons were buried, sometimes literally. Feeling sure that Buffy wouldn’t mind, he glanced at the girl in the other chair, she seemed trustworthy enough and obviously had no love for Wyndam-Price.

“Would you do something for me?” Riley asked slowly.

“Sure,” Rona shrugged, “if I can.”

“What I’d like you to do,” Riley used his best ‘man to man’ type voice as he spoke to the young slayer, “if you think Wesley’s going to try and contact Staff Sergeant Lehane I’d like you to stop him.”

“Stop him?” Rona asked hinting she wanted more clarification.

“Yeah, stop him,” Riley looked Rona straight in the eye, “if needs be, by any means necessary.”

“Any means?” Rona grinned, “Don’t you worry Mr-Major-Finn-sir, it’ll be a pleasure.”

0=0=0=0

**Troop Training Area near Camp Lejeune.**

Standing on a hillside overlooking a wide valley, Faith and Brenda looked up into the sky and watched the men of Recon Platoon jump from the back of a Chinook helicopter. The reason they weren’t up there with the rest of the platoon was than neither of them had ever made a parachute jump or done any of the training. Instead of jumping, Sergeant-Major Choozhoo had driven them out to the drop zone in his jeep and left them there to await the arrival of the rest of the platoon.

The exercise was simplicity itself, each of ‘A’ Company’s platoons was to make its way to the Battalion Bear Pit. Most would march to the objective, but Recon would parachute into a landing zone near the bear pit and then march the rest of the way to the objective. What made this exercise special was that the first platoon to get to the objective got a seventy-two hour pass or ‘Liberty’ as the Marines liked to call it. This didn’t bother Faith and Brenda, as they were basically instructors they could go off base at the weekends as often as they wanted. As long as they were back on base by revallie on Monday morning no one bothered them. However the men of Recon Platoon weren’t so lucky, while they were allowed to go off base they weren’t supposed to stay off base overnight. A seventy-two hour pass would mean a lot to them. The other reason, some would say _the_ reason for winning this little competition was that Major Powers was once again leading his _Elite_ First Platoon. No doubt with Sergeant Webster so far up his ass that…well Faith didn’t know what but she did know that she wanted Recon to win.

Watching as the first members of Recon landed, Faith and Brenda ran forward to help with the parachutes and collect up any stragglers. It only took about five minutes for the platoon to rally and get organised under Highway’s baleful eye. As she helped round up the men, Faith noticed that Lt Ring had joined them, she smiled approvingly. Just lately, after his chewing out by Powers over the ambush incident, Ring had begun to take a more active part in his platoon’s training. He turned up for morning PT and had started to join in on field problems. He still took a back-seat to Highway and herself, but Faith could tell that if he ever got away from the influence of Powers, Ring had a chance of making a fine officer.

After landing, the platoon set a fast pace for the bear pit, no longer was it necessary for Faith and Brenda to bring up the rear of the platoon to shame its members into keeping up. By now Recon was fit enough and had enough pride in itself to make such tricks superfluous. They were almost in sight of the bear pit when they saw Powers and 1st Platoon sky-lining themselves on a nearby ridge.

“We made it!” Lt Ring exclaimed excitedly, “We’re the first platoon to reach the bear pit!”

“Not so fast, L-t,” Highway whispered and looked off to the left; Ring followed the Gunney’s gaze.

“Oh darn-it,” Ring sighed disappointedly, “1st Platoon!”

“They’re not there yet, L-t,” Faith pointed out as she and Highway started to dump their packs.

It was at about this point that someone in 1st Platoon noticed Recon.

“Come-on, men,” Highway growled, “let’s smoke ‘em!”

Casting their packs to one side Recon started to run at about the same time that 1st Platoon did. Both platoons ran neck and neck towards the Bear Pit, Faith easily out paced all of them and arrived at the muddy pool of water first, however that wouldn’t count for much, what counted was when the last man in the platoon arrived. Standing in a crowd of men from both Recon and 1st Platoon, as far as Faith could see it was a draw.

“Recon wins!” Highway panted as he stood surrounded by the cheering members of his platoon.

“Gunney,” Powers panted back, “you don’t know your place, 1st Platoon is the victor!”

This time the cheers came from the throats of 1st Platoon.

“I say we have a dilemma here,” Sergeant-Major Choozhoo announced, once again he was acting as umpire for the exercise.

“Sergeant-Major,” Powers turned towards Choozhoo still breathing heavily, “as my umpire I order you to declare 1st Platoon the winner!”

“Sir,” Choozhoo shook his head slowly, “that wouldn’t be fair.”

“How do you propose to resolve this dilemma?” Powers wanted to know; Choozhoo smiled back at the officer, he’d already thought something up.

“Match-up,” Choozhoo replied shortly.

“Match-up?” Brenda whispered to Faith who turned to look at her and shrugged, she was as mystified as her friend.

As the men of Recon and 1st Platoon started to dump their gear, weapons and strip off their jackets and t-shirts, Faith decided this was no place for two army girls and led Brenda over to the bank that surrounded the pit on three sides. As they sat down in the long, dry grass, the Marines started to walk into the dirty brown water and exchange insults, it soon became clear to the army that this was some form of stylised combat that the Marine Corps indulged in and was therefore none of their business. At a signal from Choozhoo, the Marines started to fight; it appeared the object of the exercise was to eject all members of the opposing platoon from the pit without yourself being dragged onto dry land.

“Sergeant,” Brenda said slowly as she watched the Marines battle each other, “why don’t yuh join in? Yore stronger than mosta those swingin’ dicks.”

“Well it’s like this,” Faith observed as she watched Johanson pick up two members of 1st Platoon and throw them into the mud at the edge of the pool. “As a senior non-com I’m above such things,” she gestured disdainfully at the fight. “However, Corporal Mitchell as a mere Corporal ya should be down there helping out. Mind you,” Faith paused to grin at her friend, “I’d have to insist that ya strip to the waist. Just to show that I’m not playin’ favourites, y’know?”

“I’ll thank I’ll hafta give it a miss, Staff Sergeant,” Brenda replied carefully, “anyways the fight’s about over.”

Looking up, Faith saw that Brenda was right; two 1st Platoon Marines were dragging Stitch Jones towards the shore. At the last moment, however, Stitch grabbed hold of his tormentor’s testicles and squeezed. The two 1st Platoon men screamed in pain as they were unceremoniously pushed out of the pit by the now triumphant Jones. Jumping up Faith cheered loudly with the rest of Recon Platoon.

“Sergeant-Major,” Powers yelled over the sound of a celebrating Recon Platoon, “1st Platoon wins!”

“I don’t see it that way, Sir,” Highway replied levelly.

“You’re out of order Gunney,” Powers replied sharply, “1st Platoon is king of the pit.”

“How do you figure?” Highway wanted to know.

“Your man cheated,” Powers said simply.

“I say he improvised,” Highway pointed out menacingly.

“HE CHEATED!” Powers shouted starting to lose his cool.

“He adapted, he overcame,” Highway’s voice rose a notch or two in volume.

“There’s only one way to settle this,” Sergeant-Major Choozhoo stepped in before things became too serious, he smiled maliciously, “Platoon Sergeants, front and centre!”

Dumping his gear on the ground Highway started to pull off his jacket as Webster did likewise; the only difference being that Webster did it less eagerly.

“Remember Sergeant,” Powers started to take off his own jacket, “I’m leading your platoon today,” Powers glanced at Highway, “Old man, it’s time someone put you in your place.”

Before she really knew what she was doing, Faith had passed her rifle to Brenda and started to take off her gear.

“Sergeant-Major Choozhoo,” she called as she took off her equipment vest, “I’ll take on Sergeant Webster if ya like, so that he doesn’t feel felt out, y’know?”

Turning, Choozhoo looked at Faith uncertainly. To the untutored eye, Webster out weighed Faith by a good eighty pounds and topped her by eight or nine inches.

“You sure, Slay?” Choozhoo said quietly, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Hey!” Faith smiled, “Don’t worry Sergeant-Major I’ll go easy on him.”

There was a majorly loud cheer from Recon Platoon as Faith stripped down to her t-shirt with the big black ‘ARMY’ printed across her boobs. If this wasn’t a calculated insult to Webster, Faith didn’t know what was.

“Okay,” Choozhoo, shrugged, “if you wanna go through with it I can’t stop you,” he looked at Webster, “that alright with you Webster?”

“Fine,” Webster nodded as he pulled off his jacket, “as long as she don’t burst into tears when I’ve finished giving her a spanking.”

The look on Faith’s face told Choozhoo that Webster had just said the wrong thing. He reasoned that the fury that was now smouldering behind Faith’s eyes would more than even things out. However, he’d keep a careful eye on the fight to make sure things didn’t go too far.

Following Webster into the muddy water, Faith glanced over to where Highway and Powers were facing off. Even distracted, Faith sensed the punch Webster had launched at her head. Obviously he was trying to get the fight over with quickly. Well, that was fine by her, she’d get it over with quickly if that was the way he wanted to go. Faith ducked under the punch and came up smiling, goading Webster into attacking again. The man didn’t disappoint her as he launched another punch at her head. This time Faith caught the blow between her crossed wrists, quickly she moved her hands so she had Webster in a wrist lock.

Twisting his wrist viciously, Faith forced the man to bend over from the waist. Quickly she kicked Webster twice, once in the ribs, knocking the breath out of him and once on the side of the knee forcing him to fall into the dirty water of the pit. Neither kick had been anywhere near full strength, if they had been she’d have broken several ribs and probably shattered his knee beyond repair. Holding on to Webster’s wrist and hand Faith dragged him ashore just in time to see Highway deal with Major Powers. Recon Platoon cheered themselves hoarse as Sergeant-Major Choozhoo pushed his way over to where Faith and Highway stood and raised their arms to proclaim them the winners. Both Powers and Webster looked at the Recon non-coms with thinly disguised fury.

“You watch yourself, Slay,” Choozhoo whispered in Faith’s ear, “Webster’ll hate your guts for that. If he can’t get you he might try for Mitchell there.”

“Don’t worry, Sergeant-Major,” Faith smiled as she acknowledged the cheers of Recon Platoon, “we’ve both dealt with bigger assholes than him.”

0=0=0=0

**Camp Lejeune, a couple of hours later.**

Having failed to bribe or threaten Recon Platoon into making an official complaint about Highway’s training methods, Sergeant Webster stood in the street outside Recon’s accommodation. Major Powers had ordered him to collect evidence that would get Highway and that little Black-Irish bitch, Lehane, thrown off the base and hopefully out of the services. But so far he’d failed, something had changed about Recon Platoon and they seemed to actually like Highway and his army bitch.

Walking over towards where the two ‘Army Bitches’ lived, Webster remembered the rumours he’d heard about Lehane and what her trailer-trash corporal got up to in that hut of theirs at night. Intellectually, Webster thought it had more to do with the wishful thinking of a bunch of oversexed Marines. But, they did say that there was no smoke without fire. If he could catch the two women indulging in some ‘inappropriate behaviour’, he could blackmail them into signing a complaint against Highway.

Slipping around the back of the hut, Webster paused next to a half opened window and listened. He could hear a shower running and what sounded like the little blonde singing some old rebel song. He couldn’t imagine that Boston ‘Southie’ singing; let alone singing something like that. Peering around the frosted glass, Webster was able to see Mitchell in the shower running her hands over her naked body as she cleaned off the dirt from the exercise, of Lehane there was no sign. Moving around to the back door, Webster found it open. As quietly as years of training had taught him, Webster opened the door and slipped inside. Quickly and quietly he made his way into the little washroom. There only a few feet away from him was the wet and desirable body of Corporal Mitchell. He didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t have a little fun while obeying the Major’s orders. He stepped towards the girl but was brought up short by the unmistakeable sound of someone pulling back the hammer of a pistol.

“One more step and you’re dead,” Faith told him calmly.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Webster froze in mid-stride.

“Ya wanna bet on that?” Faith asked her pistol pointing unwaveringly at the back of Webster’s head.

“You’d never get away with it,” Webster turned slowly to face Faith and found her dressed in a towel and a 9mm pistol.

“Now, let me see,” Faith mused, “A man I beat the crap outta comes over for some pay back. He decides to rape Corporal Mitchell here and gets his knee caps blown off for his trouble.” Faith smiled one of her nastiest smiles, “Who’s the Courts Marshall gonna believe, a decorated, MP, Staff Sergeant with a witness or an asshole like you?”

Webster didn’t really have an answer for this.

“Now you get the fuck outta here,” Faith jerked the pistol towards the door, “and just hope you’re never in combat anywhere near me.”

Clutching a towel to her body, Brenda watched as Webster scurried from the washroom. Once they were alone she walked over to stand next to Faith.

“Thanks,” Brenda said quietly as she watched Faith ‘safe’ her pistol, “but if it’d been me I’d have shot the bastard.”

“Yeah well,” Faith placed the pistol on a handy shelf, “couple o’ years ago I would’ve too.”

“Yuh must me getting soft in yore old age, Slay,” Brenda grinned, “Now I’ll lock that backdoor and close the window while you get that towel off.” Brenda headed towards the door and called over her shoulder “Yuh want I should scrub yore back?”

0=0=0=0

**Party Time.**

About a week after Major Powers’ humiliation at the Bear Pit, Sergeant-Major Choozhoo, Gunney Highway and Staff Sergeant Lehane stood in a short line just across the road from the Regimental Commander’s house. They watched as Marine officers and senior non-coms walked up to the house in the evening light and went inside. None of the three really wanted to be there.

“I hate social functions,” Highway announced.

“You’re gonna love this one,” Faith told him with a grin, “I’m here.”

Highway glanced down at her and sneered.

“Yeah, okay,” Faith shrugged, “you’re gonna hate it, but at least I’ll be there to hate it with ya.”

“Your presence is requested at the C/O’s open house,” Choozhoo pointed out, “that means both of you. In full military dress…”

“Piss on that,” Highway growled as the three of them started to cross the road.

“You will be there,” Choozhoo pointed out, “stand tall, look sharp and wear all your ribbons so people can see a dumb-fuck hero that isn’t bleeding to death!”

Once inside the house, Faith found she couldn’t go straight to the bar and then out the back door; oh-no she had to be ‘presented’ to the Regimental Commander himself.

“Welcome, Staff Sergeant Lehane,” the Colonel said pleasantly enough, “nice to meet you in person at last.” The Colonel shook her hand warmly, “How are you enjoying your stay with us Marines?”

“Oh,” Faith tried to smile but couldn’t really put her heart into it, “it’s just fine, Sir.”

“And you’d much rather be back with your buddies in 3rd Infantry, wouldn’t you?” the Colonel whispered.

“That’s about it, Sir,” Faith agreed.

“Well,” the Colonel’s voice went back to a more normal volume, “Major Finn told me some good things about you and that Corporal of yours, what’s her name?”

“Mitchell, Sir,” Faith could really do with that drink about now.

“That’s her,” the Colonel nodded, “I for one am glad that you’re both here to help us out.”

This last was said loud enough for everyone within about three or four yards to hear.

“Thank-you, Sir,” Faith wanted out of here soonest!

“Enjoy yourself, Staff Sergeant,” the Colonel nodded as he let go of her hand and let her go back to her friends.

Moving through the house, Faith started to feel very uncomfortable, not only was she one of a very few women in uniform at the party; she was also the only army file in the house. One spec of green in a sea of blue, not before time she found Choozhoo propping up the bar, he passed her a beer as soon as he saw her arrive.

“Highway, bugged out already?” Faith asked as she raised the beer bottle to her lips.

“No, he’s over there with Aggie,” Choozhoo gestured to where Highway was dancing with a woman in a white dress.

“That’s the waitress from the Palace Bar,” Faith announced slightly surprised at the woman’s presence.

“That,” Choozhoo pointed his glass at the couple, “is Highway’s ex-wife.”

“I didn’t even know he was married,” Faith commented, “they don’t look much like any divorced couple I’ve seen before.”

“They’re not,” Choozhoo laughed quietly, “they fight a lot less now.”

Finishing her beer, Faith looked around and decided it wasn’t so bad here after all, at least the beer was free; she turned to Choozhoo.

“Come-on Sergeant-Major,” Faith took the glass from Choozhoo’s hand, “do you think your reputation would survive being seen dancing with a GI-Jane?”

“Well,” Choozhoo smiled as he led Faith towards the dance floor in the garden, “I expect it will if she’s as pretty as you, Staff Sergeant.”

“You lead,” Faith grinned as they got onto the floor, “and I promise not to step on those shiny shoes of yours.”

0=0=0=0

**Author’s Note:** It should be noted that at some point after returning to the USA, S/Sgt Lehane learnt to dance in a more sedate style to the way we usually see her dance. Therefore Sgt-Maj Choozhoo will not need to be taken away in an ambulance. 


	9. Chapter 9

9.

**USS Veracruz, The Caribbean.**

News of the alert had come through just as Faith and Sergeant-Major Choozhoo had finished their dance. The party had quickly broken up after most of the Marines had left and headed back to base. Returning to her accommodation, Faith found Brenda already there; after changing into their combat gear and picking up their packs the two women went out onto the company street where they found Recon Platoon getting itself organised. The platoon was doing a far better job of preparing itself for possible combat than it had on its first alert and Faith felt quite proud that she’d been a small part of that improvement.

After marching up to the sports field they’d climbed onto buses and were taken to an airstrip where they were loaded onto Air Force C130 transports. Following a flight to Puerto Rico they were airlifted by helicopter out to the amphibious assault ship, USS Veracruz. It was only once they were aboard the big grey ship that it seemed to dawn on everyone that this was more than just another exercise. Their suspicions were confirmed when they were issued live ammunition and MRE’s.

“Alright, listen up,” Highway called as he and Lt Ring walked over to the little area of deck that Recon Platoon called ‘home’, “as some of you may have already guessed,” Highway croaked, “this is more than another drill and we’ll be going into action within the next twenty-four hours.”

“Yes,” Lt Ring spoke up from under Highway’s shadow, “very soon we will be affecting an amphibious assault on La Isla de Nunca-Aterriza, one of the Windward Islands and some ninety miles north-east of Venezuela.” Lt Ring paused to let this piece of information sink in. “As you may know,” Lt Ring continued, “Nunca-Aterriza has recently been taken over by the Los Indios Rojos faction with the aid of Cuban forces. The two other factions on the island, Los Piratas and Los Muchachos Perdidos, have been brutally suppressed. Our mission will be to rescue American students from St Anne’s university just outside the capital, Kensington.”

Looking around at Recon, Faith was fairly sure that this was all news to Recon as well as being something of a shock. Remembering back to her own first taste of combat, Faith was rather glad she’d not been given time to think about what was about to happen. Her squad had been attacked without warning, it was kill or be killed and she’d not had to sit and think about it for nearly a day before hand.

“Our mission,” Lt Ring continued, “is to helo-cast into a small bay on the west side of the island and recon in advance of the main Marine landing force.”

“No, no, no!” Stitch Jones was the first of Recon to say anything after being given this piece of news, “I can’t do that man, I forgot my suntan oil!”

“Come-on,” Faith called not giving anybody time to say anything else, “its time to earn your pay.”

“Let’s move like we mean it, Marines,” Highway added.

Now they’d been given a mission, Lt Ring started to outline their route to and across the island as the Marines started to transfer rounds from boxes into their magazines. No sooner had Lt Ring finished his briefing than he was called away to Battalion Headquarters. Standing there slipping loaded magazines into the pouches on her equipment harness, Faith noticed Brenda standing over to one side of the platoon area staring out to sea, Faith walked over and stood beside her.

“Everything okay, B?” Faith asked quietly.

“Yuh mean apart from being scared shitless?” Brenda glanced at her friend before turning back to watch the incredibly blue sea, “Yeup I’m fine!”

“Hey, B,” Faith put her hand on her friends shoulder, “ya been in combat before, you’ll be fine.”

Frowning, Faith sometimes forgot that Brenda wasn’t like her; Brenda was, deep down, just a girl who didn’t want to get killed. Okay she was a good soldier, much better than she’d been when they’d first met back in Iraq. But, that didn’t alter the fact that she wasn’t really cut out for combat. So, she’d fight in self defence, she’d even fight bravely when need be but this wasn’t what she’d signed up for; she’d transferred to be in the Military Police out of a sense of loyalty to her friend. She’d not signed up to storm ashore, probably under enemy fire, with a bunch of ‘gung-ho’ Leathernecks.

“Look,” Faith said quietly, “I think we’re only here because these damn-fool Jarheads haven’t really thought about it. If I asked the L-t and point out the whole ‘direct action’ thing you could stay behind.”

“Yeup-right!” Brenda laughed as she dashed away the tear that was rolling down her cheek, “What and leave you to go storming ashore with these brainless gyrines? You’d probably get yore-self shot or something…then what do I tell Scream an’ the guys? I’m supposed ta be here ta make sure yuh keep outta trouble, y’know?”

“Ya more afraid of having to tell Scream I got shot than getting shot y’self?” Faith asked slowly.

“Yeup,” Brenda nodded, “be worse if yuh got kilt an’ I wasn’t there. What would I tell him then?”

“Gee,” Faith put her arm around her friends shoulder and gave her an affectionate squeeze, “I can see ya problem, I wouldn’t like to have to tell Scream I’d got m’self killed either.” Slowly Faith let go of her friend, “Sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeup,” Brenda nodded with a small smile, “I’ll do fine.”

“Okay,” Faith turned to head back to where she could see Lt Ring come back from BHQ, “you get ya gear sorted an’ I’ll see ya later.”

“Hey, Slay!” Brenda called just as Faith was walking away; Faith glanced back at her friend, who gave her a thumb’s up, “Recon, kicks butt!”

“Gunney Highway,” Lt Ring called as Faith got closer, the L-t didn’t look happy “Sergeant Lehane, a word please.”

“What’s up L-t?” Highway asked as they stepped out of earshot of the rest of the platoon.

“Bad news, Gunney,” Ring glanced around the deck a worried look on his face, “Major Powers has decided to split the platoon up.”

“Say what!?” Highway growled.

“Yes, Gunney,” Ring swallowed hard before speaking again his eyes nervous, “he says that putting the entire platoon ashore in one place would be a waste of resources.”

“So, what does he intend doing with them?” Highway wanted to know as did Faith.

“He intends to use our men to fill gapes in the TO&E’s of other platoons,” Ring explained in a rapid whisper, “we’ll be going ashore with about a squad’s worth of men.”

“A squad!” Highway started to look around for Powers obviously with a mind to throwing him overboard.

“Excuse me sir,” Faith looked into Ring’s face and saw only worry and confusion, “when you say ‘we’ what exactly do you mean?”

“Well,” Lt Ring cleared his throat, “there’ll be myself, Gunney Highway, Corporal Mitchell and yourself Sergeant.”

“Shit,” Faith shook her head, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Hell, Slay,” Highway snapped, “you’re not the only one, going ashore with just a squad, we could get into some serious shit and have no one to back us up.”

“No,” Faith shook her head again, “I wasn’t thinking of that, Sir, Gunney.”

“What are you trying to say, Sergeant Lehane?” Lt Ring asked slowly.

“Sir,” Faith straightened up a little as she gave her full attention to the young officer, “I don’t wanna be out of line but I think Major Powers is trying to get us killed.”

“Sergeant Lehane!” Ring exclaimed, “You don’t know what your saying, I’m sure Major Powers only has the best interests of the battalion in mind.”

“Sir,” Faith persisted, “think about it, in the last couple of months we’ve all done something to piss Major Powers off big time. What better way of getting rid of a bunch of embarrassments than for them to get killed in combat.”

“Gotta say, sir,” Highway whispered menacingly, “I agree with Slay here, the only best interests Major Powers has are his own.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Ring replied without any great conviction before pausing for a moment. “Erm, 1st squad is about the best trained squad in the platoon isn’t it Gunney?”

“Sir,” Highway agreed nodding his head.

“Sergeant Lehane,” Ring turned to Faith, “get 1st Squad separated from the rest of the platoon before anyone comes to take any of the men away.” Ring turned to look at Highway, “Gunney, it might be an idea to take some extra ammunition along and anything else you think might be useful.”

“Aye-aye, Sir,” Highway snapped to attention.

“Sir!” Faith followed Highways lead.

“And another thing,” Ring called quietly before either non-com had turned away, “best not to let the men in on your concerns, okay?”

“Aye-Aye, Sir!”

“Sir!”

Walking over to where the platoon rested, Faith separated out 1st squad and led them to another part of the deck, while Highway went off in search of the quartermaster.

0=0=0=0

**Off the coast of Nunca-Aterriza.**

The two Bell UH-1N’s flew low above the waves as they approached the shore. There’d been too many Marines for one helicopter and too few for two. However, Lt Ring had been so insistent about needing two choppers to transport his men and equipment ashore that even Powers had accepted he had a point. Faith had felt quite proud of the young officer for standing up to Powers like he had. Unfortunately it just reconfirmed that Powers was out to get them killed; if he hadn’t allowed Ring the two choppers that would have meant they’d have had to leave behind much of the extra equipment and ammunition they were taking with them. If it had been discovered that Powers had refused them the extra transport and they’d got killed it could all look like it was his fault.

The helicopters came into the hover about twelve feet above the water and about fifty yards from the tree lined shore. Jumping out into the warm water, Faith wondered if there was some sort of Marine doctrine that said you _had_ to get wet on a beach landing. As far as she could see there’d been no reason that the choppers couldn’t have dropped them on the beach and she could have kept her feet dry.

Collecting up their gear they spread out and ran towards the treeline where they took cover and got themselves organised. From what she’d seen of Nunca-Aterriza so far, Faith was of the opinion that it would make a great vacation spot. The wind was warm without being too hot or too humid. The sun shone out of a startlingly blue sky onto pristine beaches and a warm sea. The palms that lined the beach were like some picture out of a vacation brochure, she half expected to find tanned vacationers lying on the beach sipping cocktails.

After setting up a small perimeter in the treeline, Highway called BHQ on the squad’s radio.

“Choozhoo,” Highway called, ignoring proper radio procedure, “do you read me?” he paused before trying again, “Choozhoo, this is Highway, do you read me?”

 _“I hear you highway,”_ Sergeant-Major Choozhoo’s voice came clearly across the airwaves, _“Battalion wants you to recon towards the university, roger that?”_

“Roger,” Highway acknowledged, “you stay low around Powers, you hear me?”

 _“See you when it’s over,”_ Choozhoo confirmed and signed off.

Passing on the orders to Lt Ring, Highway led the squad further down the beach before turning inland. As soon as they did the semi-jungle under the palms started to get thinker; Faith couldn’t help feeling that this was way different to Iraq. Over there the best cover you could expect was a clump of thorn bush or a shallow fold in the ground. Here there were trees everywhere and any one of them could be hiding a bad guy with an AK. Changing direction slightly Faith walked up behind B.

“You okay, B?” Faith asked quietly.

“Yeup,” B confirmed with a grin, “I’m okay.” she gestured to the trees, “Prettier than Iraq.”

“Anywhere’s prettier than Iraq,” Faith pointed out, “the south side o’ Boston’s prettier than Iraq!”

Just as Faith was beginning to think this was going to be a walk in the park after all, the familiar stutter of AK 47’s came to her ears. Running forward a couple of yards she took up position behind a substantial tree. Sighting along the top of her M4 she could see nothing, but she could hear the sound of bullets ripping through the leaves and branches above her head. Looking over to her left where she’d sensed Brenda go to ground, Faith saw her friend had taken cover behind a tree a couple of yards away. Turning back to her front, Faith looked for the enemy again but still couldn’t find any.

The hostiles must be using speculative fire, basically this was firing at a sound or movement to try and provoke some reaction. Whistling to attract her attention, Highway signalled for Faith to swing her end of the squad around to the left a little. Getting to her feet but still keeping her head down, Faith waved Brenda and a couple of the Marines closest to her forward before starting to trot through the trees herself. As they came into line facing the direction Highway wanted to go in, he got up and led the rest of the squad forward.

Very soon they came to the edge of a track that ran through the jungle. The enemy fire got heavier as they took cover in the treeline. Bullets started to slap into tree trunks at about head level and Faith could just make out a slight haze in the air above where at least one, possible two hostiles where lying and firing at them. Raising her rifle to her shoulder, Faith aimed and fired off a quick answering burst. As far as she could see her fire had little effect other than to draw more fire towards her position.

“Johanson,” Faith hissed loudly and pointed, “get behind that tree and get that SAW going!”

Watching from behind her tree, Faith saw Brenda and Johanson run forward until they were behind a tree next to a fallen log. Giving covering fire while Johanson got into position, Faith and Brenda kept the enemy’s heads down. A moment later, Johanson started to fire his SAW. Faith watched as the bullets tore up the ground and cut into the vegetation around the enemy position. Satisfied that everything was in order on this flank, Faith made her way over to where Highway was firing from behind a tree surrounded by the rest of the squad.

“Three man recon team, I reckon,” he told Faith as she slid to a halt behind him, “you think you can get across the track and flank ‘em?”

Glancing at the track and then over to the enemy position, Faith nodded and got ready to move.

“Covering fire!” Highway ordered and there was an immediate increase in the weight of fire coming from the rest of 1st Squad.

Without hesitation, Faith sprinted across the track and into the trees beyond. The sudden flurry of fire must have convinced the hostiles that they were faced by a much larger force than they’d at first believed. With surprising speed and skill they withdrew from their positions and faded into the jungle.

Listening to what was happening on the other side of the track, Faith heard Highway order the rest of the squad forward. Somehow things didn’t feel right to her. As she moved forward to keep level with the rest of the squad she felt her stomach cramp as it often did when her spooky ‘super-powers’ were trying to warn her of danger. Sure enough she soon saw the hostiles make their way back through the undergrowth hoping to catch 1st Squad strung out on the other side of the track.

Unfortunately for them, Faith was in a perfect enfilade position. As the enemy riflemen came crabbing down their side of the track she pooped up from behind a bush and fired. First one then two of the enemy fell to the ground, only the third man was quick enough to start to turn to face Faith’s position. A short burst of fire from Faith’s rifle hit the man in the chest as his return fire flew harmlessly over her head. Moving rapidly forward, Faith checked on the bodies, one man was still alive, she shot him at point-blanc range before the rest of the squad could make their way over to her location.

“Cubans,” Highway observed dryly as he searched the dead soldiers.

“Outstanding, Sergeant Lehane,” gasped Lt Ring as he rushed up to join them.

“All in a days work,” Faith replied nonchalantly while all the time feeling the high she got from combat try to take over her body, she fought it down and calmly changed the magazine in her rifle.

“You okay Slay?” Brenda came up behind her.

“Yeah, fine,” Faith turned and nodded at her friend, the feeling that she could take on the world had passed now and she was back to being a good non-com.

“Okay,” Highway attracted the squad’s attention away from the dead bodies lying in the jungle. “Spread out and lets get moving.”

He signalled for everyone to start advancing down the track.

0=0=0=0

Moving cautiously along the side of the track it took them about ten minutes to arrive at the bridge. Taking up position at the side of the road, Faith looked down the track towards the bridge and the sandbagged emplacements on either side of the river. The area around the bridge and the river was a lot more open than else where giving the two 12.5mm machine guns the Cubans had set up, one on either end of the bridge, wider fields of fire.

Counting two or three men in each of the emplacements, Faith saw another six or so either on the bridge or next to it, she glanced at Highway silently asking him what he wanted her to do.

“Take Mitchell, Aponte and Collins across the track,” Highway pointed to the bush on the other side of the track. “I’ll have Jones and Johanson set up a base of fire just down the track aways and they can cover us as we move forward, okay?”

Looking up and across the road, Faith saw that someone had left a bulldozer parked in the centre of the track, it would provide good cover as she lead the others across.

“B, Aponte, Collins,” she called quietly, “with me!”

Waiting just long enough for her little force to join her, Faith glanced at Highway and got the signal to move. Leading her team across the track, Faith heard someone shout in Spanish, moments later the air was thick with bullets that cracked above her head like a whip. Taking cover in the ditch on the far side of the track, Faith looked back to see Brenda and Aponte trapped behind the bulldozer.

“Put some rounds out!” she ordered Collins who was kneeling next to her.

As soon as she and Collins started to fire the Cubans swung their machine gun in her direction and blazed away forcing herself and the Marine to take cover. By now Highway had the SAW firing and was moving his team down the opposite side of the track in an effort to draw the Cuban’s attention away from his pinned team. Risking popping her head up, Faith fired at the sandbagged emplacement and its crew. Apart from making the Cubans hunker down and become harder targets once again, this had little effect. 

If this had been Iraq the asshole insurgents would be running around exposing themselves to her fire, but these were trained soldiers she was facing who knew the importance of firing from cover. Just as she was wishing Dim and his grenade launcher was here, Faith’s eye fell on the AT-4 launcher strapped across Collins’ back.

“Give me that thing!” she ordered the startled Marine.

By now Brenda and Aponte were firing from behind the bulldozer, adding their fire to hers and Collins’, but they still hadn’t got fire superiority of the Cuban machine gun. Hearing the SAW firing at some Cuban riflemen who’d taken cover behind the riverbank, Faith prepped the AT-4 for firing.

“When I fire this thing, B!” Faith called, “You an’ Aponte get your asses over here, you got that?”

“Got it, Slay!” Brenda called back.

Placing the launcher on her shoulder, Faith popped up and sighted on the machine gun, she was just in time to see the smoke from a rocket streak towards her. Firing her own rocket, Faith hit the ground as the RPG hit the bulldozer and exploded.

0=0=0=0


	10. Chapter 10

10.

The rocket streaked straight and true towards the Cuban machine gun position and exploded with a muffled bang. There was an immediate slackening in the amount of fire coming from the Cuban positions as they started to pull back from the river bank and bridge. Sensing more than seeing this, Faith stood up, rifle at her shoulder and saw four Cubans starting to climb the opposite river back. Shooting three of them with three quick shots, she watched the forth slide back into the river and disappear from view. It was more or less at this point that Highway’s half of the squad assaulted the bridge from out of the scrub to the right of the road. Turning at the sound of movement behind her, Faith was relieved to see Brenda and Aponte slide into the ditch behind her looking no worse for being trapped behind the burning bulldozer.

“You okay, B?” Faith called as she stepped out of the ditch and back up onto the track.

“I’m okay, Slay,” Brenda called back, “a little scorched but I’ll live.”

“Aponte?” Faith looked at the Marine.

“I’m fine, Sergeant,” Aponte admitted.

“Okay people,” Faith started to trot towards the bridge, “let’s get movin’.”

Arriving at the bridge, Faith watched as Private Quinones used his grenade launcher to demolish the machine gun emplacement on the other side of the river. Glancing over her shoulder she saw Jones and Johanson run down the track to join the rest of the squad. After checking for demolition charges and throwing the abandoned Cuban weapons into the water the squad moved on towards St Anne’s University.

0=0=0=0

It took the squad half an hour to walk to the university and in this time they met no further resistance. In the distance, however, they could hear firing as other units came into contact with either local or Cuban forces. In the sky above their heads they saw and heard Marine and Navy helicopters fly by at tree top height before coming around a corner in the track to find the burnt out wreckage of a Marine UH-1. A quick examination of the wreckage showed no sign of the crew; Highway speculated that the chopper must have been hit my small arms fire forcing it down. The crew had probably set fire to their own helo to prevent its capture before evading away through the scrub.

The university turned out to be a collection of wooden barrack huts probably built during the Second World War to hold local troops for the defence of the island. At some point in the last fifty years it had been turned into a teaching hospital (run by a religious charity from one of the Southern States) occupied and staffed by Americans. The squad moved across the neatly mown lawns and between the carefully tended flower beds. The huts had all been given coats of white paint and Faith could see the notice boards and the benches laid out so students could study outside in the sun. Of the faculty and students, she could see no sign.

“When you search the buildings,” Highway called as they spread out between the huts, “call out an’ tell ‘em who you are, I don’t want any blue on blues, okay?”

“Hello, happening hostages,” Jones joked, “I’m Stitch Jones, Mr Funkadelic!”

“Try, US Marines, shithead,” Highway told him straight faced.

Glancing at each other Faith and Brenda grinned, there was no way they were going to claim to be Marines.

“Okay,” Highway stopped and turned to face the rest of the squad, “split up and search by twos…move!”

Turning to their right, Faith and Brenda trotted over to a hut, ran up the wooden steps to the front door and took position either side of the entrance. After waiting for a moment trying to hear if there was any movement inside, Faith turned and kicked in the door. Dashing through the doorway she took up position to cover Brenda’s entrance. The two women watched for any sign of hostile intent before slowly relaxing and looking around. The hut had been set up as classroom, after checking the two doors leading off the main room Faith was satisfied there was no one in the building. Just as she was leading the way back outside a burst of gunfire sent her and Brenda diving for cover. Taking position either side of the door they scanned the lawn and flower beds for trouble. The university grounds had gone deadly quiet, not even the birds were singing.

“It’s okay!” came a shout from behind another hut, “Fagetti just shot a skeleton!”

For just a second, Faith wondered if the place was infested with reanimated skeletons, after what she’d seen in the last few years nothing would surprise her. When no walking bone yards appeared, the two women slowly got up and walked out onto the porch of the building. Signalling for Brenda to follow her, Faith moved along the veranda until they were on the opposite side of the hut. Here they saw a collection of more modern looking prefabricated buildings.

“This looks better,” Faith announced quietly.

“Yeup,” Brenda nodded her head as she recognised the new huts as mobile homes like the one she’d grown up in.

Moving towards the new buildings, the women found that each individual hut was connected to its neighbour by a covered walkway, obviously to keep the rain off during the wet season. Cautiously entering one of the buildings, they found it was in fact three or four smaller building that had been joined together and turned into a shower block and laundry. Hearing the sound of running water they moved slowly and quietly down a corridor until they came to what looked like a changing room. In the middle of the wall opposite the entrance they could see another doorway. Light spilt out into the changing room and the sound of running water came to their ears again.

Nodding for Brenda to investigate Faith continued to watch the corridor as Brenda made her way over towards what was becoming rapidly obvious was a shower room. Pausing in the middle of the room, Brenda took a moment to wipe the sweat from her forehead, it was hot and clammy in the changing room and smelt of school-locker-room. Taking another step forwards, Brenda nearly crapped herself as a tall handsome and more importantly naked, male student stepped from the shower room into the changing room. Wrapping a towel around his middle and smiling nervously he stared at Brenda’s rifle.

“Oh my!” Brenda breathed quietly before remembering where she was and what she was supposed to be doing, “US Army, sir!”

“B!?” Faith stepped into the room; it had gone too quiet for her liking and she’d wondered if her friend had a problem. “Oh my!” Faith’s eyes travelled up and down the student’s wet muscular body.

“I saw him first,” Brenda whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

0=0=0=0

At almost the same time that Faith and Brenda were discovering exactly what they were fighting for; in a nearby building the rest of the squad burst into a chapel to find it full of thirty or forty male and female students. Within about ten seconds of them entering the chapel 1st Squad were overrun by a horde of overexcited American teenagers. Five minutes later Faith was standing on the lawn outside the main admin block, she watched as 1st Squad got the students organised ready for their evacuation. Standing next to Highway she looked up at the man and smiled.

“Makes a change for someone to be pleased to see ya, don’t it?”

“Sure does,” Highway nodded, he’d been in Iraq and Afghanistan too and knew exactly what Faith meant.

Just then a small convoy of jeeps and trucks turned up to start evacuating the students. A jeep broke away from the main group of vehicles and pulled up beside Faith and Highway. It contained the welcome figure of Sergeant-Major Choozhoo and the not so welcome figure of Major Powers; the Major didn't look happy to see them still alive. Walking over to the jeep Highway reported in.

“All secured. Sir,” Highway reported as Powers climbed from his jeep a camera hanging from a strap around his neck. “No casualties and no sign of the enemy.”

Turning away from Powers’ little group, Faith walked over to where 1st Squad was helping the students, particularly the female students up into the back of the trucks. As she walked over to the truck her sensitive hearing picked up on something Jones was telling his buddies.

“You know what they say about college girls,” he asked his friends after helping one particularly shapely co-ed aboard the truck, “a behind is a terrible thing to waste!”

“Corporal Jones!” Faith snapped as she walked up to the truck, “check the squad’s weapons and ammo we’ll be moving out soon.”

“On it, Sergeant!” so surprised had Jones been by Faith’s sudden appearance that he snapped to attention completely ruining the air of ‘cool’ he’d been projecting at the female students.

“You’ve gotta admire his taste though,” Brenda’s quiet voice came from Faith’s left; Faith looked up at the student in question and nodded her head slowly.

Grinning to herself, Faith shook her head in quiet amusement before turning to look at Brenda.

“Corporal Mitchell,” Faith ordered, “you take over here and no molesting the baby doctors.”

“Yes ma’am!” Brenda sprang to a parody of attention, “No molesting, Staff Sergeant Lehane ma’am!”

Faith turned to give Brenda a world weary smile, “And don’t call me Ma’am!”

Back at Powers’ jeep, Highway and Lt Ring watched as Major Powers started to take photographs of the students as they were being loaded into the back of the trucks.

“We encountered some heavy resistance along the way, Sir,” Highway told Powers who appeared to be too busy taking photographs to pay much attention to what Highway was saying.

“Probably local fanatics,” Powers moved to get a better shot of the back of one of the trucks.

“Negative,” Highway stated coldly, “they were Cuban regulars with modern rifles, machine guns and RPG’s, Sir.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Powers took the camera from his eye and turned to look at Highway, “that data’s already been factored in.”

“SIR!” Sergeant-Major Choozhoo called from over by the jeep where he’d been using the radio, “It’s battalion…”

“Go ahead,” Powers replied.

“Big Daddy says, ‘Get off your fat ass and get back into the war’,” Choozhoo passed on the message without letting on how much he’d come to despise Powers, “His words sir,” he added apologetically. “He says he wants to recon that hill,” Choozhoo pointed to the north where a hill rose above the university about two miles away. “he says one of our fly-fly boys thinks he saw some armour.”

“You’re full of all kinds of good news,” Highway told Choozhoo while ignoring Powers.

“You’re too ugly to live forever, Highway,” Choozhoo told him.

“Gunney, recon that hill,” Powers forced himself back into the conversation, “but wait for 1st Platoon and myself before launching an assault. Stay in contact, you understand?”

“Shall I send back data sir?” Highway asked deadpan, “Or has that already been factored in?”

“Move out,” Powers ordered from between clenched teeth.

Watching Highway go back to his squad, Powers hoped there would be armour between here and the hill. If Highway and his men came into contact with it the chances were that Highway and that ball-busting-bitch Lehane would end the day dead or wounded and either way he’d be rid of them.

0=0=0=0

“You’re shitting me!” Faith frowned as Highway told her their mission, “I tell you Highway,” she whispered, “that asshole is tryin’ to get us all killed.”

“So,” Highway raised an eyebrow, “what’s new?”

Thinking back to all the times Lt Underpants had tried to get his platoon wiped out in Iraq, Faith gave a resigned shrug.

“Yeah,” Faith agreed tiredly, “same shit, different place is all.”

“Come on,” Highway gave her a comradely pat her on the arm, “lets move out.”

As they headed out of the university grounds they could hear the trucks start to pull out as the students chanted, ‘US Marines! US Marines!’ and cheered their rescuers.

0=0=0=0

The hill was a deceptively long climb, the slope beginning almost as soon as they’d left the university campus. Very soon they’d left the buildings of the university and surrounding houses behind them and were once more moving between bushes and scrub as dried grass crunched under their feet like they were walking across a new mown field. 

“Come-on,” Faith said quietly from her accustomed place near the rear of the formation, “Keep it moving.”

Walking backwards for a few yards she started to feel the cramps in her stomach that warned of either a bad period or an ambush, on this occasion she was almost certain they were walking into trouble.

“Gunney!” Faith called softly as she ran forward.

“What?” Highway signalled a halt and all the marines knelt to take cover in the long grass.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Faith came to a halt and knelt down next to Highway; she pointed to a semi-derelict lighthouse situated about fifty yards to their front on a false crest, “It doesn’t feel right, y’know?”

After the first few times that this sort of thing had happened in Iraq, Scream, her old squad leader had always taken Faith’s ‘feelings’ seriously; her ability to sniff out an ambush had soon become legendary within her battalion. As her fame had spread she’d been in great demand as a sort of human ambush detector. Unfortunately the USMC weren’t quite used to her yet.

“Women’s intuition?” Highway asked with a smile, seconds before the roar of vehicle motors came to their ears.

The sound of motors approaching was soon joined by the rattle of heavy machine guns firing and bullets cracking through the air above their heads.

“Shit!” Highway glanced at Faith as he hunkered down to avoid the fire, “I’ll never say anything bad about women’s intuition again!”

It was just as three or four Soviet built armoured cars came over the crest of the ridge, that Lt Ring got the bit between his teeth and jumped up and sent a burst of fire in the general direction of the armoured cars.

“FOLLOW ME!” He yelled as he ran for the supposed safety of the light house.

Jumping to their feet the rest of 1st Squad followed their officer as he ran through the straw coloured grass towards the buildings.

“No you assholes!” Highway shouted in that strange hoarse whisper of his, “Get down!”

Unfortunately no one heard him as more rounds flew over their heads or chewed up the ground nearby. Luckily for them the Cuban crewmen didn’t appear to be very good shots.

“Come-on Gunney!” Faith got up and fired a burst at the Cuban infantry that had just appeared around the cars, “We better get after your Jarheads!”

Running to the building had obviously seemed like the best option to Lt Ring. However both Faith and Highway knew that by going into the building it more or less trapped them in a place where the armoured cars could use their heavier weapons. Had they stayed in the cover of the scrub and grass they could have gone places where the armour couldn’t. Once they’d separated the armour and infantry they could have destroyed either or avoided both. As he ran after the rest of Recon, Highway heard and felt something bigger than a machine gun bullet pass over his head. Just as he was nearing the lighthouse something exploded behind him and the blast blew him through the door and into the dark dusty interior of the lighthouse, it was only then that he realised that Faith wasn’t behind him.

“Where’s Slay!?” Brenda demanded in between pumping rounds out through a crack in a boarded up window.

“She was right behind me!” Highway croaked as he took up position at the door and looked outside again.

After firing off a burst at some Cubans who’d been trying to approach the buildings, Highway ducked back inside, he’d not seen any sign of Faith anywhere. Dust rained from the ceiling as a shell slammed into the side of the building blowing out a small hole in the wall. Highway guessed that the Cubans had a 37mm gun fitted to one of their vehicles. Although it was only a relatively small weapon they could still use it to slowly blow the building apart around them.

“Bad mistake coming in here like this, L-t,” as if to drive home Highway’s words, a Cuban shell blew out one of the boarded up windows sending a Marine sprawling across the floor.

“Its my fault, Gunney,” Lt Ring admitted, “I lead them up here.”

“Apologise to their mothers,” Gunney told him, “now put some fire down on those Cubans over there…someone radio battalion see if we can get some air support.”

Crawling over to where Profile still lay after being blown across the room, Aponte examined his buddy and the radio he was carrying.

“Shit Gunney!” Aponte started away from the body on the floor and looked at the blood on his hands, “Profile’s dead!”

“The radio?” Highway asked, they could mourn Profile later, if they ever got out of this mess.

Holding up the radio, Aponte showed Highway the shrapnel hole that had killed both the radio and Profile. A long burst of firing from outside split the air as rounds of all sizes hit the building filling the room with dust and flying plaster. At the moment only Johanson was returning fire raking the fronts of the armoured cars with bursts of fire hoping for a lucky shot that might get in through a hatch and bounce around the interior of the vehicles to kill or injure their crews.

“Come-on,” Highway pushed the young Marines back into their firing positions, “lets put down some fire, keep those infantry pinned.”

If he could keep the Cuban infantry pinned down the armour was unlikely to get any closer for fear that the Americans had anti-tank weapons. Unfortunately Recon had only one AT-4 with them, the other was somewhere outside probably still strapped to Sergeant Lehane’s dead body. Glancing cautiously out a window, Highway decided not to try for one of the armoured cars. He didn’t have a clear shot and he decided to wait until they got closer or things really turned to shit.

0=0=0=0

Lying on her back in the grass outside the lighthouse, Faith shook her head trying to clear it of the ringing in her ears. She remembered running along behind Highway, sending the occasional burst of fire at the Cubans with her M4. There’d been a whooshing sound that seemed to suck the air from her lungs and then she remembered flying through the air, she couldn’t remember a bang, but she did remember hitting the ground hard and all the lights going out. Now she was lying on her back, staring up at a clear blue sky as rounds cracked by over her head.

“God-damn-it!” Faith groaned softly as she tried to roll over onto her stomach, something was stopping her.

It took a moment for her concussion addled mind to realise she still had one of the AT-4’s strapped across her back. Rolling onto her side Faith repositioned her equipment and managed to lie flat on her stomach. There was now less fire coming her way the Cubans preferring to send it at the old lighthouse. Slowly Faith’s mind started to work, not seeing any more bodies belonging to Recon Platoon she surmised that they’d all made it to the lighthouse where they were now trapped. Spitting dirt and pieces of dry grass from her mouth, Faith realised that once again she was going to have to put her ass on the line.

“Those gung-ho, bastard Marines better not get any more holes shot in me,” she muttered as she crawled off into the grass heading for the flank of the Cuban force.

0=0=0=0


	11. Chapter 11

11.

**The Lighthouse, Nunca-Aterriza.**

Had Faith had more time, or indeed the inclination to think her plan through more carefully, she might have realised that placing herself between two fires was an inherently dangerous thing to do. However, she didn’t so she hadn’t. It was only as the bullets cracked above her head from both directions that she decided it might be time to change her plan just a little. If you could call the idea that had sprung into her mind a plan. To be honest crawling over to near where the Cubans and their armoured vehicles were and then killing them all was hardly up there with the D-Day Landings.

Lying in the long grass about thirty yards short of the first Cuban armoured car, Faith cursed all the cover that surrounded her and hid her from the enemy and them from her. Apart from the occasional fight in a village or town all her combat had been in the deserts of Iraq. In that sandy thorn bush covered hell that she was used to you could at least see a fair way, here she could hardly see the hand in front of her face. But that wasn’t really so much of a problem as it could have been. Okay, so from down on her belly hugging the ground she couldn’t see much, but she could hear plenty even over the sound of all the firing going on around her.

Faith knew the exact locations of the six Cuban soldiers within twenty-five yards of her, she also knew the exact location of the two armoured cars nearest her, everything else was just general locations but it would be an incredibly lucky Cuban that got anywhere near her with out her noticing. Rolling onto her side, Faith took the AT-4 off her back and prepared it for firing. This was going to be another problem, one AT-4 into four armoured cars just didn’t go.

“What the hell,” Faith shrugged to herself as she coiled her legs under herself in preparation to spring from the grass like a jack-in-the-box; she’d just have to trust that Highway and Brenda would follow her lead.

Jumping up, Faith placed the AT-4 launcher on her shoulder, sighted on the nearest armoured car and fired.

0=0=0=0

Moving around the dust and smoke filled interior of the lighthouse, Gunney Highway checked on his men…and woman.

“How you doin’?” Highway asked as he came up behind Brenda and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Brenda sent a short burst of fire at a Cuban who’d foolishly shown himself, he threw up his hands and disappeared from view, “She’s still alive, Gunney,” she glanced quickly back at Highway, “I’d know it if’n she was kilt.”

“Yeah, I reckon so,” Highway nodded, “seems to me Slay is one tough soldier to try an’ kill.”

Keeping his head low, Highway crawled over to Collins, he didn’t have to ask the Marine how he felt.

“I’m doin’ better than Profile,” the young Marine explained.

Next he checked on Johanson who’d put down his SAW and was applying a dressing to a wound in his left arm.

“I’m okay, Gunney,” he reassured Highway, “I can still fight.”

“We’ll make it outta here,” asked Aponte, “right, Gunney?”

“You got a date, Aponte?” Highway wanted to know.

“Hey man,” Aponte grinned, “y’never know.”

After checking the rest of the squad, Highway crawled back to where Lt Ring sat in a corner staring down at Profile’s body.

“Gunney,” Ring looked up at Highway, “I got Profile killed.”

“It was his time,” Highway explained urgently, this was no time for his platoon leader to go to pieces, “When it’s your time, I don’t care how fast you can run, it’s your time.”

“I coulda got them all killed,” Ring appeared to want Highway to tell him he was a poor excuse for an officer.

“Yeah,” Highway nodded, “but you didn’t. Just don’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Yeah,” Ring seemed to get a grip on himself, “you’re right.” Ring lifted up an old battered telephone, “I think I’ve figured out a way of calling in an airstrike if we can get this phone to work!”

Just as he was about to ask Lt Ring to explain himself, Highway heard the unmistakeable sound of an armoured vehicle exploding.

“IT’S SLAY!” Brenda yelled excitedly, “I knew she wasn’t dead.”

“Give her covering fire!” Highway called as he crawled over to the doorway and the tempo of firing increased five fold.

0=0=0=0

Dropping the empty launcher tube, Faith reached around her body and grabbed her rifle. Bringing it to her hip, she already had her eyes fixed on her first victim. Feeling her weapon comfortingly in her hands she fired from the hip. The round hit the Cuban between the eyes, before he’d even started to fall she’d moved on to the next Cuban infantryman and shot him in a similar way. Working rapidly through her remaining targets from left to right, Faith shot each one once and hardly bothered to watch them fall.

Safe for the moment, Faith moved towards the burning armoured car. The strong sea breeze was coming from behind her and was blowing the black, oily smoke from the burning Cuban vehicle across the rest of the Cuban position. Running up to the front of the blazing armoured car, it gun barrels pointing drunkenly at the sky, Faith saw the remaining Cubans start to react. Firing several quick bursts, Faith rapidly emptied her magazine and sent the Cubans ducking for cover.

The armoured car with the little cannon continued to fire at the lighthouse slowly reducing it to rubble. The car nearest to her started to turn its turret in her direction. Heavy machine gun bullets began to churn up the ground a few yards to her right as the Cubans inside the vehicles started to search her out. Sensing the Cuban infantry begin to reorganise themselves and begin to advance on her, Faith ducked behind the burning wreck to swap round her magazines.

Just as she slipped a fresh magazine into her rifle, Faith heard a *WHOOSH!* followed a moment later by an incredibly loud *BANG!* as a rocket streaked from the lighthouse and hit the next armoured car in line. The AT-4’s warhead easily defeated the frontal armour of the armoured car killing the driver and commander instantly. The white hot plasma from the rocket’s HEAT warhead ignited the car’s fuel and ammunition. A split second later and the entire car exploded sending pieces of itself in all directions. It was at this point that Faith sprang from her cover and started to coldly shoot down Cuban infantrymen as they stood hesitating in shock and confusion.

With expert timing, Highway led the Marines of Recon Platoon out of the lighthouse and into the attack. The Cuban commander, faced with having half his armoured force destroyed in a couple of minutes and being attacked from the flank by an unknown force. While facing an attack from the Americans he’d thought he’d trapped, decided to withdraw. Ordering his men and surviving vehicles back, he watched in bewilderment as one of his armoured cars didn’t move. Looking through the smoke and flame that was obscuring his sight of the battlefield he caught a glimpse of his heavy car; he couldn’t be sure but it looked like its radio antennas had been shot away. Shrugging resignedly he told himself that it couldn’t be helped, his duty was to save as many of his men as he could to fight another day. With luck the stranded vehicle would cover their retreat and hold off any American pursuit, at least for a while.

Finding herself with no more targets, Faith became aware of fire coming from her right as Recon engaged the armoured car that appeared to be covering the retreat of the rest of the Cuban force. The vehicle’s crew kept firing sustained bursts of heavy machine gun fire at the Marines who were advancing on it in short rushes. Every now and then when the vehicle commander thought he had a worthwhile target he’d send a shell winging its way towards the advancing Americans. Most flew harmlessly over Recon’s heads. But some hit closer to home sending earth and shrapnel scything through the air. Trotting towards the vehicle, Faith searched her pouches for a grenade and hoped that Recon would notice her and not shoot her thinking she was a Cuban.

As she was approaching from the vehicles unprotected flank, the Cubans in the BRDM armoured car never noticed her. Deserted by their own infantry they were sitting ducks in such close country where a determined foe could creep up on them unseen. There was definitely one thing you could say about Faith, she was certainly determined. Stopping with her back to the armoured side of the vehicle, Faith winced as the sound of a burst of machine gun fire from the turret beat against her ears. Slinging her rifle over her shoulder she held the grenade firmly in one hand while the index finger of her left hand slipped through the ring attached to the safety pin. Judging that Recon had actually seen her and were deliberately firing high, she worked herself towards the front of the car. Here she’d noticed that the vehicle commander had left his hatch wide open. Obviously judging that the risk of anything unpleasant coming through the hatch was outweighed by him actually being able to pick out new targets for his gunner.

Pulling the pin from the grenade, Faith let the spoon fly free, she waited for half a second before she reached up and dropped the grenade in through the open hatch. Diving for the ground, she hit the dirt and put her arms over her head just as the grenade exploded. The sound of the grenade going off was fairly disappointing. There was no great explosion of flame and smoke like on the movies. Instead there was an almost pop-like explosion after which whiffs of grey smoke started to escape from the vehicle’s open hatch. Raising her head and looking round, Faith saw another hatch in the side of the vehicle begin to open. For a moment it swung on its hinges as more grey smoke escaped the interior. Hearing a groan, she saw a Cuban crewman start to crawl from out of his smouldering vehicle. Automatically, Faith’s hand went for the pistol holster strapped to her right thigh. Pulling her 9mm sidearm she shot the Cuban in the head and watched him slump down dead, half in and half out of the vehicle. Satisfied that there were no more threats, Faith holstered her weapon and pulled herself to her feet.

0=0=0=0

“You okay, Slay?” Highway asked as he slowly walked over to where Faith stood next to her smouldering trophy.

“Fine,” Faith grunted as Brenda hit her from the side and hugged her, momentarily forgetting where she was.

“Looks like someone’s glad to see you,” Highway observed, he noticed the concerned look on Faith’s face, “Don’t worry,” Highway grinned, “I’m not gonna ask and I’m sure as hell not gonna tell.”

“Outstanding, Sergeant Lehane!” Lt Ring cried happily as he joined the little group studiously ignoring how Corporal Mitchell held on to Faith. “Much better than my idea of phoning Camp Lejeune and calling in an airstrike,” the young officer laughed, “like that was going to work!”

“Well, L-t,” Highway turned to look at Lt Ring, “what are we waiting for?”

“All right, you devil dogs,” Ring cried his voice getting stronger with every passing second, “lets take that fucking hill!”

The Marines cheered and punched the air with their fists as they turned away to continue on up the hill. For just a moment the two Army representatives were left standing alone. Turning to each other they sighed; Faith shrugged as Brenda rolled her eyes.

“Come-on, B,” Faith said quietly as she turned and patted Brenda’s on the shoulder, “we better get after them, make sure they don’t get themselves into any more crap.”

“Know what yuh mean,” Brenda agreed as she walked along side her friend, “it’s like ridin’ herd on a pack o’ puppies.”

0=0=0=0

Standing proudly at the top of the hill overlooking Kensington, Nunca-Aterriza’s capital, stood Fort George. Built by the British some time in the 1700’s after capturing the island from the Spanish, the fort now stood as a creeper covered curiosity for tourists. However, the reason Fort George was built there in the first place still held true today. It made a perfect observation point to watch Kensington harbour from. 

Approaching the fort’s outer wall, Recon infiltrated through the main gate unseen by anyone who might be in the main part of the fortification. Not wishing to risk going up the wide ramp that led to the old gun battery and the tower that stood at the centre of the fort; Recon Platoon decided to scale the still formidable walls. Forming a human pyramid against an inner corner of the star shaped walls, Brenda climbed up the bodies of the Marines holding a length of nylon rope between her teeth. Moving like some, cute, blonde, camouflaged, pirate she made the rope fast to the breach of an ancient iron cannon and took up position to cover her buddies as they climbed the rope.

Once they were all on the gun platform they formed a skirmish line and rushed towards the great brick lookout tower. Two of the Spanish speaking members of the squad yelled for whoever was in the tower to come out and surrender. When there was no reply, Lt Ring ordered his men to throw grenades into the tower through the gaps in the lower walls left by the old cannon loopholes. As the grenades exploded, Recon rushed forward and started to fire into the now smoke filled interior. Within a very few moment cries of surrender were coming from inside the tower as the Cuban infantry squad who’d garrisoned the fort gave up and came out with their hands in the air.

0=0=0=0

Sitting on a low wall together with their backs towards the tower, Highway and Faith watched as the ‘youngsters’ organised the prisoners and moved them into the lower part of the fort. Faith, for one, suddenly felt very old even though she was only twenty-six, she could only guess how Highway was feeling right about now. Pulling a Cuban cigar from his pocket, Highway stuck it in his mouth before offering its brother to Faith.

“Thanks,” Faith took the cigar, found her Zippo and lit her cigar before passing the lighter on to Highway.

Sitting on the wall the too senior non-coms sat in companionable silence, smoking their looted cigars and admiring the view. The sound of a jeep approaching made them both look around, it was Powers arriving safely after all the fighting had finished. Climbing out of his jeep Powers walked over to look down at Highway.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” Major Powers demanded.

Faith was vaguely aware of Sergeant-Major Choozhoo and Sergeant Webster joining the group just as Lt Ring came up behind herself and Highway. Highway took his cigar from his mouth and squinted up at Powers.

“Just enjoying the view, Sir,” he replied slowly; Faith smirked as she blew cigar smoke in Powers’ general direction.

“Well, you disobeyed a direct order,” Powers snapped back his voice getting louder by the moment, “I told you to stay in contact and not take this fucking hill without me!” Clenching his fists in an unsuccessful effort to control his temper, Powers yelled at Highway, “Get on your feet, Highway!”

“With all due respect, Sir,” again Highway spoke slowly and calmly, “you’re beginning to bore the hell outta me!”

Not being able to control herself any longer, Faith let out a bark of laughter and then started to cough and laugh at the same time as a mouthful of smoke caught in her throat. Anything else Powers was about to say was drowned out by the noise of an approaching helicopter. Everyone watched as the UH-1 touched down at the other end of the gun battery and the Regimental Commander climbed from the interior of the chopper. The Colonel in charge of the Marine Regimental Combat Team walked briskly over to the little huddle of officers and non-coms. He stood belligerently in front of Powers thrusting his chin out as if daring Powers to punch it.

“Who’s in charge here?” The Colonel demanded.

“I am, Sir,” Powers snapped to attention, “Major Malcolm Powers, 1st Battalion, 12th Marine Regiment.”

“Did you lead this assault?” The Colonel turned slightly to face Powers head on.

“No Sir!” Powers announced proudly, “Lt Ring and Gunnery Sergeant Highway disobeyed a direct order to attack this position, Sir.” Powers swelled with malicious pride as he destroyed Ring’s and Highway’s careers, “I told them to wait for support but they still charged up this hill.”

“Why?” The Colonel next turned to stare at Highway.

“We’re paid to improvise, Sir,” Highway explained, “To overcome and adapt…”

“I gave the order to take this hill,” Lt Ring called from behind Highway.

Deciding to stay quiet for now, Faith thought it best to let the Marines sort this one out. If the shit was going to hit the fan what did she really care? Okay, Highway was a good guy but his career was almost over whatever happened, the guy she felt sorry for was Ring. Just as he looked like he was going to turn into a good officer he was going to get crapped on by that asshole Powers. An evil thought came to Faith’s mind; once she got back to the Army, she’d get Brenda to put in a complaint about attempted rape against Webster and they’d claim Powers was protecting him. Even if the charges didn’t stick the suggestion of conduct unbecoming, would follow Powers around like a bad smell.

“Ring,” Powers turned to look at the young officer, “this is going to ruin your career.”

“Are you new to the infantry, Major?” the Colonel wanted to know.

“Yes Sir,” Powers replied, “I came over from supply.”

“Were you good at that?” the Colonel asked.

“Yes Sir!” Powers replied arrogantly.

“Well then stick to it,” the Colonel snapped back, “because you’re a walking clusterfuck as an infantry officer!”

Once again Faith had to stop herself from choking on her cigar.

“This is a Marine Amphibious Unit, Major,” explained the Colonel as if talking to a rather slow five year old, “My men are hard chargers, Lt Ring and Gunney Highway took a handful of young fire-pissers, exercised some initiative and KICKED ASS!”

Faith felt slightly put out because she’d kicked ass too, but then again this time she was coming out of the battle more or less uninjured…no more purple hearts for her today.

“Well done Lieutenant,” the Colonel called to Ring, “now see that some of those students are escorted back to Cherry Point.”

“Aye-aye, Sir!” Cried Ring, “Thank-you, Sir.”

Faith turned to pick up her gear ready to follow Lt Ring, it seemed like the thing to do. The Colonel looked disdainfully at Powers.

“You’re DISMISSED!” He yelled into the shocked Major’s face.

Turning away from the colonel, Powers walked away with his tail firmly between his legs followed, as always, by Webster. The Colonel joined Choozhoo, Highway and Faith, he gave each of them a hard look.

“What are you three sorry assed individuals looking at?” He wanted to know, “Get out of my L-Z.”

“Semper Fi!” Chorused Choozhoo and Highway followed by a lone cry of “Army!” from Faith.

“Ooo-rah!” Called the Colonel softly as he watched them go.

0=0=0=0

Recon Platoon, at least that portion of it that had actually been deployed as a reconnaissance unit found itself flown directly back to the States aboard a Marine Corps C130 along with the students they’d helped rescue. Walking down the ramp of the aircraft, Faith and Brenda paused for a moment to look out over the sunlight airfield. There was a band and an honour guard plus the friends and relations of the Marines and students all there to welcome them back. There was, needless to say, no one to welcome home the two soldiers mixed in with all the Marines.

“Welcome home,” Faith said quietly to Brenda as they made their way across the concrete apron towards the band and the cheering civilians.

“That’s right neighbourly of yuh, Staff Sergeant,” Brenda grinned, “An’ may I be the furst to say, welcome back ta yuh an’ all.”

“Thanks,” Faith hitched her rifle higher up on her shoulder, “Ya know, I’ve had enough of this Marine bullshit.”

“Me too,” agreed Brenda, they were in amongst the crowd now and were picking up some of the fall out from the celebrations; they’d both been hugged a couple of times by over excited young women who’d mistaken them for short guys.

“Lets get back home to the Army, B,” Faith said tiredly as the band struck up, The Stars and Strips Forever.

“On it, Staff Sergeant!” Brenda slipped her arm through Faith’s as they walked away from the Marine Corps unnoticed by anyone.

0=0=0=0

Highlight and right click the link to play, The Stars and strips Forever'.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mRn9chmRAY

0=0=0=0

Epilogue.

**Jacksonville Bus Station.**

Standing with his suitcase at his feet Wesley Wyndam-Price was a bitter man. All he’d tried to do was to bring Faith Lehane, the infamous rogue slayer, to justice and what had been his reward? Nothing but, shame, he had been disgraced, humiliated and dishonoured. As if that wasn’t bad enough he’d been told by Mrs Finn’s chief hench-woman, Willow Rosenberg, that his services were no longer required by the, so-called, Reformed Watchers Council.

Having arrived at the hut in the swamp where his own slayer had imprisoned him, Rosenberg had not only stripped him of his title of Watcher, but also of all his research material and magical items. When he’d tried to remonstrate with the woman she’d set her own slayer bodyguard on him and he’d had to suffer the indignity of being forcefully evicted from his own prison.

As he’d walked away from the hut he’d imagined the three women laughing at him as he made his way towards the main road. But one day they’d be laughing on the other side of their faces. One day when that murderer Lehane turned on them and brought their precious, ‘Reformed Watchers Council’ crashing down around their ears, then they’d wish they’d heeded his warnings. 

When that day arrived he’d be there to laugh in their faces when they begged him for help. But…but, he was a bigger man than that; deep down he knew that he could never see the Council brought low, its work was far too important for him to jeopardise, whatever his personal feeling might day. Until that day came when they came crawling back to him, cap in hand, he would work to expose Lehane for the monster she was!

THE END.


End file.
